Gifted
by famoussarcasticlastwords
Summary: Dr. Heidi Bishop is an empath, thought to be an asset to the BAU. She is a long-time friend of Morgan and attracts the attention of Dr. Reid. When a case dredges up events from Heidi's past, Spencer tells the young psychologist about his own, and Heidi finds herself becoming increasingly intrigued by him. This is their story. Reid x OC
1. Empathy

**"We are like islands in the sea, separate on the surface but connected in the deep." _William James**

* * *

Spencer Reid stopped at the mile mark, leaning his head between his knees. He sank into the grass and took his pulse: 172/minute. The mile had taken him approximately 20 minutes. Meanwhile, Morgan was lounging against a tree, arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey, pretty boy," he called, "I told you we need to put some meat on those bones."

"Shut up." Reid's hair was plastered to his forehead, falling into his eyes.

He wiped his face on his arm and took a swig from his water bottle. He let out a sigh, and with a groan, stood up. He opened the water bottle and poured the rest of the water over his head, shaking out his hair. He reminded himself he needed to get it cut. The tank top Morgan had lent him was making him quite uncomfortable; a few female joggers glanced at him and laughed. A few male ones, too. Over by the coffee stand, he could see Hotch and Beth talking. Spencer squinted. He wasn't used to seeing Hotch so relaxed; he had his hands on his hips and his body was fully angled toward Beth. With a pang, Spencer wished the same for himself. He glanced at his bag, knowing Thomas Merton was tucked away in one of the worn pockets, waiting for him.

"Well, look who it is!" Spencer nearly jumped out of his shorts at Morgan's shout in his direction.

Morgan's gaze was focused over his shoulder, at someone else. Reid glanced over and saw, to his surprise and unwelcome excitement, a petite, slight woman jogging toward them. From the looks of her, she was about five-foot-three. Her reddish hair was tied back in an elastic band, and she wore a tank top with a matching pair of shorts. Short shorts. Her legs were long and toned, as were her arms. Spencer swallowed anxiously, looking down at his running sneakers.

"Derek, hey!" The woman had to stand on her tiptoes to hug Morgan. Her top lifted, showing a sliver of pale flesh. "How have you been?"

"You know, same old, same old," Morgan replied.

Spencer began to lope toward them, trying to ignore his jumpiness.

"That bad, huh?" The woman shoved Derek in the shoulder, laughing. She glanced over at Spencer, looking him up and down. "Who's this?"

"This is—" Morgan started.

"Dr. Spencer Reid," Spencer finished, putting his open palm up.

The woman outstretched her arm, but Spencer shook his head. "I don't really shake hands. With the amounts of pathogens transferred during a handshake it's actually safer if we-"

"I'm Heidi Bishop. Doctor," the woman interrupted. Derek laughed, and Spencer cut him a glare.

"Hotch mentioned something about a forensic psychologist" Spencer noticed she wasn't fully angled toward him.

Heidi nodded once, her mouth set, and pulled a sweatshirt over herself. She looked very young, no more than twenty-five or twenty-six. Hotch appeared behind her, seeming to dwarf everyone in the crowd.

"Bishop, I hope you've packed a small bag," he said, glancing at everyone. "Briefing in twenty minutes. Don't be late."

* * *

Heidi thumbed through the photos on the tablet in front of her. It was difficult, especially for someone with her ability, to stomach these photos: women hung in trees, their arms spread, hands each nailed to a branch. It looked like a noose was hung around each victim's neck, and each woman had the same general appearance: brown hair, blue eyes.

Heidi had what she liked to call "perspective-taking." In the real world, in Agent Hotchner's and the FBI's vocabulary, she was an empath. She was hyper-aware of the people around her, specifically their deep-seated emotions. The person had to be in the room for her to pick up their energy, but each person had an empathic "scent," something that differentiated them from others. Morgan's friend this morning had a very strong, overbearing energy, and she had a headache from it. She guessed he suffered a trauma not a long time ago, and had suffered a loss even more recently. His energy was the kind of energy that always threw Heidi for a loop: this doctor's energy was heavy and unstable, while Derek's indicated he was more rooted in reality.

Someone sprinted into the room and sat next to her. The headache flared and she winced as Derek's doctor friend took a seat next to her. Heidi noticed there was a scar on his neck. He eyeballed her for a second, but she shot him a glare and he turned away, clearing his throat.

"I know that the loss of Blake last spring is a particularly difficult subject," Aaron started, "but I want to take this time to say that she is doing well. She is with her husband and has found a job as a professor of linguistics at Harvard University. Meanwhile, Section Chief Cruz has introduced a new position on the team: forensic psychologist. Taking that spot will be Dr. Heidi Bishop. Her job description is very similar to ours, only the job of the forensic psychologist calls for reliable witness statements in court; Dr. Bishop will be representing the BAU team during criminal trials and hearings. Cruz felt that with the shaky trial of Justin Mills and what he called a lack of professionalism during those interrogations, he believed the team could benefit from someone even more highly trained than we are. Dr. Bishop was interviewed and selected by JJ, who believed her empathic abilities to be an asset to our team. Please welcome her. Garcia, you may begin."

Garcia stared, open-mouthed at Heidi, who sensed the same energy she sensed when she saw women with young children. Garcia was the motherly type; her presence soothed the headache, but only slightly. Derek's doctor friend seemed to flash his own beacon at her, burning a hole in the side of her head.

"Three women have been found dead in the Boston suburbs this week," Garcia started. "Each was shot in the back of the head, hung in a Christ-like manner, with a noose around the neck. The noose was tied post-mortem."

"It's a bowstring knot," David Rossi said from his seat. "Boy scout, perhaps."

"It's actually relatively easy to tie a bowstring knot," Morgan's doctor friend piped up. Heidi noticed his energy shift into the intrigued; he put his whole body into stating this theory. "The unsub isn't necessarily a boy scout. I actually learned to tie one from a tutorial on the Internet. There are literally thousands of websites that—"

The doctor yelped and Heidi moved her arm to dodge his coffee cup, which he'd knocked over. Great. Brand new white shirt. Looking at her, he mumbled, "Sorry."

"Any sign of sexual assault?" Morgan squinted at the pictures.

"No." Garcia's energy shifted into the fearful.

"I would attribute that to the Crucifixion-esque way they're displayed," JJ replied. "The Unsub had a religious upbringing, I'm guessing."

"Religious upbringing or not, the victims could be sisters," Hotch tore his eyes away from the photos and scanned his team. "The Unsub has a specific preference, which means these women are more than likely surrogates for someone he knows. It's only a matter of time before he goes after the original."

"The original trigger did something to set this guy off," Heidi said. "Maybe he used to date her, and they broke up. Or maybe that, combined with another event. We have to look into his past, see if there's anyone that stands out."

"Which means she only has a certain amount of time before he seeks her out," Hotch finished. "Wheels up in thirty."


	2. Headache

The jet was spacious, allowing plenty of legroom. It even had its own coffee maker in the back. Heidi took one of the Styrofoam cups and poured herself black coffee. Taking a sip, she felt it run through her, easing the pain in her head. She pinched her nose between her thumb and forefinger, massaging it.

Spencer walked into the room, noticing Dr. Bishop slouched against the wall, hand on her forehead. Her brow was knit, and she was shaking her head back and forth, breathing heavily. She began to massage her temples; her head _thunked_ against the wall, and she let out a long sigh.

"You okay?" He was hesitant to approach her. He counted the seconds it took for her to respond. It took the average human being less than a second to respond to stimuli, even less for the brain to process that there had been a stimulus in the first place. But a full thirty seconds passed and Dr. Bishop still had not responded. "Dr. Bishop?"

She jumped and made a noise. The guarded, cold expression returned almost immediately. She had noticed it was him, felt relief, but then had closed him out. That was unusual, even to Spencer, who noticed he only observed that type of behavior during investigations, and not from his colleagues. "Oh, it's you."

"Are you okay?" Spencer pressed. "Do you need some Advil? You should probably take only one. You look like a bit of a lightweight. We can stop by a pharmacy once we hit Boston. Actually, I think I have some in my—"

"Agent Reid, I'm fine." She put her hand up, physically closing him off, and walked away.

He couldn't help it; a swell of dejection snaked through Spencer's chest and stomach. He looked after her.

"Actually, it's 'doctor,'" he called.

She put her hand up again and took a seat by JJ.

Spencer sipped his coffee, leaning against the counter. Morgan sauntered up to him, stifling laughter.

"Bit of a toughie, isn't she?" Morgan looked after her.

She was in a conversation with JJ, who interacted with her easily enough. Spencer thought that maybe she was more comfortable with women, but she had seemed relaxed enough around Morgan. Rossi leaned toward her; Spencer saw the back of his head. Agent Bishop came away laughing. She was relaxed against the seat, sipping her coffee.

"I want to show you this video." She took her tablet out of her bag. "This cat loves to stick his head in boxes."

Spencer was no more intrigued by cats in boxes than a bear by a calculator, but still he ambled toward them. Unfortunately, the remaining seat was taken by Hotch, who was poring over files.

"Garcia'd love that," JJ remarked. Spencer cleared his throat.

All three of them looked up. There was a pause; Dr. Bishop busied herself with an eBook.

"Spence, hey," JJ said softly.

"Just in time." Hotch looked up. "I've already briefed the others. You and Bishop are headed to the coroner's office to examine the bodies. Dave and JJ are talking to the victims' parents and friends. Morgan and I are headed to the crime scene."

* * *

The coroner was a tall, balding man whose energy was a subtle, slight pressure. Heidi was so thankful for the relief that she nearly stood behind him.

"Ligature marks indicate they were held for extended periods of time," he said. "Possibly simultaneously. Each of them has the same tan line on the left hand…"

The coroner shuffled away, followed by Spencer. Heidi crossed her arms and circled the table on which rested the first victim.

"Rings." Spencer examined her left hand. "These victims were either engaged or married."

"He removed the wedding rings before he killed them," Heidi said, glancing over the report. "None were found at any of the scenes…" She glanced at the bodies. "This confirms Hotch's speculation. We're looking at surrogates."

Spencer whipped out what looked like a cell phone. Heidi heard, "Cave of wonders, who dares disturb my slumber?" She turned away, smiling.

"Yeah, Garcia, I need you to do a search. Keep in mind that these criteria are very strange. I want you to look for brown-haired, blue-eyed young women in their mid to late twenties. Cross reference that with either marriage certificates or engagement announcements."

There was about a minute-long pause before Garcia let out an explanation, and the coroner jumped. "Badabing! You've found the lamp…one woman matches your search criteria. Her name is Shannon Haines. She is twenty-one years old and engaged to a Nate Garroway."

"Anything on the fiancée?" Reid pressed.

"He's a graduate of Emerson College…now he's a producer for a local news company. He is a diabetic, and judging by his transactions he really likes Diet Mountain Dew and Chinese takeout."

"No history of violence?"

"Clean. This man is like the Golden Boy of Boston. If there were a vibe that screamed 'NOT AN ABUSIVE BASTARD,' he would have it."

"Okay, thanks, Garcia. Can you send Dr. Bishop Shannon Haines's information? I don't have a tablet like everyone else."

"Already done. She should be hearing a ping very shortly. PG out."

Sure enough, Heidi heard the tri-tone sound from her bag. She glanced through the information, stumbling upon something that made her chest go cold.

"Take a look at this." She pointed the tablet in Spencer's general direction.

Spencer removed his glove and squinted at the screen. "We need to get this to Hotch. Right now." Turning to the coroner, he mumbled something and was rushing out of the room.

Heidi followed, stuffing the tablet back into her bag.


	3. Profile

"Hospitalization in early 2010." Spencer nearly bowled over the detective, who shouted at him in a thick Boston accent.

"Reid—" Hotch started.

"See, people overlook psychological abuse because it can't be seen, but the effects on the mind are quite profound. I was actually reading a case study on it; people are going as far as to claim psychological abuse has the same, if not worse, aftereffects that physical abuse has: paranoia, PTSD; the abuser practically conditions his victim to-"

"Reid!" Hotch nearly shouted, and everyone went quiet. "Garcia already sent me the information. We've identified Shannon Haines's engagement as the stressor. We've also found something else: Boy Scout badges."

Hotch pulled up a photo on his phone. "We found the badges at every crime scene, along with an etching of an eagle."

Spencer glanced at the photos, thumbing through them. The badges were placed unusually low; the Unsub would have to be a midget in order to place them that low to the ground. He briefly considered that the Unsub might have stooped, but that was not conducive to the profile they had so far: a narcissistic sociopath who wanted everyone to see his work. If he could, the Unsub would have lit the trees on fire. Then he caught something etched into the trunk of each tree: an eagle. Rossi had been right.

"Hotch, look at how low the badges are placed," Spencer blurted. "I think…Rossi was right. The Unsub's an Eagle Scout, and I think he's using his troop to help him with his signature."

* * *

Heidi waited with Derek, while Spencer near sprinted toward Hotch. It was raining, and the field office had an anxious, up-tight atmosphere. Heidi asked Derek if he'd found anything at the crime scenes.

"Boy Scout badges. Every tree within a three-foot reservation had at least three of them. Crime scene investigation said they weren't there when the bodies were found. The Unsub must have revisited the scene."

"He's gloating," Heidi said. "There's a good chance you've already talked to him."

"Yeah, we're on that." Morgan glanced out the window. "I'm keeping tabs on any suspicious behavior. We've got a few candidates; Garcia's running 'em right now."  
Derek unlocked his phone and showed Heidi the list of names. With a wave of nausea, Heidi realized she recognized one: Levi Roush.

* * *

2008

The snow melted away on March 12th; Breen had been in the hospital for ten days. Heidi sat in his room, watching the news coverage. They were calling this the most brutal hate crime since Matthew Shepherd. A surge of white-hot anger billowed inside of Heidi; it was her older brother they were talking about. She and Breen were best friends, and had been since he'd heard her first cries.

Heidi gripped Breen's hand; she could hardly see his face through all those tubes. She felt heaviness snaking through her stomach and chest; Breen slept most of the day, but when he woke, he often woke screaming. When the police had questioned him about the man who'd approached him, Breen had said it was a guy in a mask.

Breen had come out to Heidi not a week before he had been brutally beaten and left to die outside a nearby gas station and convenience store. Heidi could feel it: something was not quite right with Breen; he carried himself in such a way that was off-putting to the keen eye. Breen had been more fortunate than Matthew Shepherd; one of the employees was unlocking the place and found him tied to one of the gas kiosks. But still, Breen was likely to have scars all over his body.

About four years later, Breen had confessed he knew the man who had beaten him. Levi Roush had removed his mask only to tell Breen that he wanted him to know who killed him. Levi had threatened that, if Breen should survive, he would come for him a second time.

At the time, Breen was living with his boyfriend in New York City, but his voice had shaken with the tremor of the nightmares that had plagued him for almost half a decade. Heidi, then a student at the FBI Academy, has kept her brother's secret to this day.

* * *

Present Day

"Levi Roush," Heidi said, pointing to the name with a shaking finger.

Derek put a hand on her shoulder. "Heidi, what's wrong?"

"Call Garcia," Heidi replied, "and tell her to dredge up anything on a Levi Roush. He's who you're looking for."

Without waiting for an answer, she turned from Derek and went for the nearest open office. She sat down, leaning her elbows against the table. She put her head in her hands, smoothing her hair. A figure at the doorway made her reach for the gun in her upholstery.

"You've gotta stop doing that," she said as Dr. Reid walked into the room./p

Dr. Reid closed the door behind him and sat beside Heidi. The headache washed over her, and she leaned back in her seat, shaking her hair out.

Spencer audibly swallowed before continuing. "Garcia pulled everything on Roush. You were right, Heidi. Hotch is gonna give the profile shortly. Nice work."

Spencer watched Heidi lean forward. He expected her to do one of three things: slap him in the face, get up and walk out of the room, or both. With his wear on her patience, it wouldn't surprise him if she had an outburst. But when Heidi looked at him, her gray eyes were no longer guarded. Spencer bit his lower lip, which he noticed he had a habit of doing when he was anxious. The sensation calmed him for about ten seconds before he had to do it again. Licking his lips had a slightly longer effect, but in the context, even he realized it may be taken the wrong way.

"Levi Roush tried to murder my older brother," Heidi started. "Breen is very lucky to be alive. I'm sure Garcia dug that up, too."  
Spencer set his lips, matching her gaze. "She did."

Despite the headache, Heidi found Spencer's earnest eyes comforting. She reached out and touched his arm. He flinched at the contact, but made no move to pull away.

"Thank you." She smiled. The headache was starting to lift. "And I'm sorry for my behavior earlier. Your energy was…abrasive."

"That explains your migraine," Dr. Reid still made no move to pull his arm away. "What…what about me is so abrasive?"  
Heidi hesitated before continuing. "I think it's because you've got so much going on in your head. But you seem very pained, Dr. Reid. I think you've been dealt some pretty horrible cards."

Dr. Reid laughed, and the headache lifted. "You could, um…say that. And you don't, ah…have to call me doctor."

"Okay." Heidi found herself tightening her grip on the young doctor's arm. "Spencer."

Hotch not so subtly burst into the room, and Heidi yanked her hand away.

"Shannon Haines never made it to work this morning. Her fiancée reported her missing earlier this afternoon. You need to be ready now; we're ready to give the profile."

* * *

"The UnSub, or 'Unknown Subject' we are looking for is a white male in his early to mid twenties," Hotch began. "He is a narcissist, craving attention and verification, and has had a long-standing obsession with a young woman he either knew or knows well. The women he has killed thus far have been surrogates for someone he believes is the original trigger. He probably knew this woman during his teen years; they could have dated or been close in some way. We believe the original trigger is Shannon Haines, and her engagement to Nathan Garroway is the stressor."

"The nature of the kills and the rope found on the victims, along with other evidence, lead us to believe that our UnSub is part of a Boy Scout organization." Spencer starts throwing himself into his theories, gesturing with hands and arms. "He would be in a leadership position, such as an Eagle Scout, as this position would offer him the verification he lacks within himself."

"There's also a very good chance he's inserted himself into the investigation," JJ continued. "It would be easy for him to blend in. You may have already interrogated him. He would want to be part of this; the media publicity would give him more of the verification."  
"The reason he needs this verification," Heidi began, "is because he's lacking in some way, most likely appearance, physicality, and self confidence."/p

"So, you're saying 'look out for an ugly guy with confidence issues?'" the detective from earlier snorted. "You're looking at the suburbs of Boston. I think those are about the only guys we get."

"Which is why it's important that you keep tabs on people that volunteer information," Heidi interrupted. "He hunts within these three towns: Waltham, Newton, and Needham. He has not once ventured into the city, which tells us he's not comfortable there. We have officers posted in those three locations; it is also imperative that we put Ms. Haines's safety as our first priority."

"In this case," Hotch concluded, "we do not have time on our side. Shannon Haines has already been reported missing by her fiancée, and if we do not act now, Shannon may die. Time is of the essence. Thank you."

* * *

The fire alarms began to sound almost immediately after Hotch finished. Heidi was one of the first out of the room, sprinting into the foyer, followed by JJ. Smoke was already beginning to slither through the building. Heidi got on her hands and knees, crawling her way to the nearest exit.

Something locked around her right ankle and yanked her backwards. She skidded along the floor and into the arms of a masked man, the same masked man who had terrorized her family. Before she could move or scream, he'd slammed her head against the wall and, already faint from smoke inhalation, Heidi lost consciousness.


	4. Execution

I'm moving the rating up to M because of the violence and the language in this chapter. I'm also posting a trigger warning; this chapter is violent and graphic and I want to make sure my readers are comfortable. If you're uncomfortable, feel free to skip this chapter.

Spencer strode back into the ruined lobby, Bishop's credentials in his hand.  
"Guys, I found her creds." Morgan and JJ looked up; Rossi was examining a dent in the wall. "Any sign of her?"  
"Signs she struggled." Rossi pointed toward the hallway.  
A trail of blood led to the exit door. "JJ, did you see anything?" Spencer asked.  
"She was standing right next to me. She dropped to her knees and started crawling through the smoke. I started to do the same, but then something yanked her away. She was gone so fast, I…I looked, but it was too smoky to see."  
"Spencer examined the trail of blood; it started at the dent in the wall and went to the door. There was at least a tablespoon's worth, if not more. If the UnSub had struggled with her here, then he must have done something to subdue her. Reid studied the dent, its shape, calculating circumference, mapping out equations. The imprint was about the size of a human forehead.  
"Guys, I think I know what happened," he started. "I was calculating the circumference of the dent. The UnSub bashed her head against the wall and dragged her from here."  
Spencer began to follow the blood trail, growing more frantic as he reached the parking lot. Sure enough, there were skid marks on the pavement.  
"Guys, these tire tread marks aren't deep enough for a truck or a van. The Unsub must drive a small car." Reid scuffed t the markings with his shoe. "If that's the case, he probably put Bishop in the trunk."  
"Where do you think the UnSub would take her?" JJ asked.  
"Where he's holding Shannon," Spencer stated, studying the threads in his jacket. "Both Bishop and Shannon grew up in the same town: Waltham. He's taking them back to where he thinks it began."

"Roads are bumpy out in the suburbs here." Rossi followed the treat marks with his eyes. "Waltham's a good distance away. He'd have to give her a longer lasting sedative. Chloroform, maybe?"  
"With a bumpy ride like this and the possibility of the Unsub's reckless driving," Spencer started, "she'd get jostled around quite a bit. There's a good chance she's sustained more injuries: broken ribs, bruises, maybe even dislodged teeth. With the possibility of smoke inhalation and a concussion, plus the fact that she lost a lot of blood from the head wound, she may not have much time."

* * *

Heidi knew the headache was real this time. She tried to protest against consciousness, but the pounding in her forehead was too acute. Her body ached all over; she guessed she had a few broken ribs, too. She cracked her eyes open and looked around her. She was in a gymnasium of some sort…there was a mural on the wall. Through the fog in her mind, Heidi studied the mural: she could make out a huge white shape. She squinted, and her head flared. She almost cried out, but began coughing instead; she thought she tasted blood. She tried to move her arms, but they were jerked up above her head, tied at the wrists to the bleachers. Her legs were tied taught at the ankles; she was beginning to lose circulation in both her feet.  
She was cold. Gooseflesh had broken out on her arms and legs. Her midriff, from the air puffing up against it, was exposed too. She was in her bra and panties. Hadn't sexual assault been ruled out of the profile? Weren't the Boy Scouts in Roush's troop just cubs?  
Study the white shape. She tried to stave off panic, but as her eyes began to process the shape, she found that increasingly difficult to do.  
The white shape was a horse, the mascot of her old high school. The mural was covered in a sheen of mold and grime; the high school had been shut down for some time now, but she knew it. She had spent many an afternoon here, doing sprints and stretches for her cheer squad.  
"Rock the V, rock the I, rock the C-T-O-R-Y! VICTORY!  
There was movement beside her. Slowly, ignoring the protest from her head and neck, she turned and saw another young woman lying next to her. The woman couldn't be older than twenty-one. Her hair was dark, and she gazed with tearful blue eyes up at the rafters.  
"Shannon?" she rasped, looking at the woman.  
Shannon turned toward her, terror in her eyes. "How did you know my name?"  
"My name is Heidi Bishop. I'm with the FBI. My team is coming."  
"He'll kill us." Tears dripped onto the wax wooden floor.  
"Who's he?"  
"They." Shannon's voice shook. "Levi Roush and his Eagle Scout cult following. Levi's devout Catholic, but the others…they took your clothes off."  
A metal door creaked open, echoing around the room. Heidi's eyes snapped shut, a technique conditioned to second nature during her teenage years. She could hear at least two boys in the room; their shoes squeaked against the floor, and their laughter caused a tightening in her throat.  
"Roush, man, you switched it up. Brought a ginger too? This'll be good."  
Someone leaned over Heidi, and she heard metal scraping on metal, the kind of noise a knife makes when releasing from a switchblade. Something sharp and cold pressed up against the left side of her neck, and she flinched away.  
"Not so fast, pretty thing." Heidi felt the indentations of the boy's shoes on her left flank. He swung out with his leg and made contact with her ribcage; she felt a distinct crack.  
"Her eyes flew wide open and she let out a scream; the pain ricocheted up and down her torso.  
"Whip, knock it off!" A scrawny, bespectacled young man walked into the room. "Don't do it here. This is my place."  
"You're no fun, you know that, Roush?" the one called whip sauntered up to the scrawny one; the comparison was a grizzly bear to an underfed rabbit. "Fuck what your mom says. She's the one who locked you in the closet, remember?"  
Levi's eyes rested on Shannon, who tried to squirm free. In the dim light from the windows high above, Heidi could see that Roush's eyes were the palest gray. His energy pressed upon her, dismal and dense as humidity. This was the man who tried to murder her brother and terrorize her family. Anger bit its way through her, and if her hands were free, she would have shot him. But the pain, coupled with blood loss, was making her weary. She felt blood trickling down her face and into her mouth. First case on the job, and they'd be carting her back to Quantico in a black bag.  
"Hi, Shannon," Levi squatted down and leaned toward the other woman. "How have you been?"  
He cleared the hair from her face. Then he cut her binds and lifted her into his arms. Heidi started to fade.  
"What do we do with them?" the one called Whip asked.  
"Cut the redhead loose. Take her out behind here and shoot her in the back of the head. No cutting, no organs, no mess. I don't want the boys involved in this one."/p  
"Scout's honor, Roush." Whip leaned over Heidi. "Too bad for her. She looked like fun."  
"Her brother was a lot of fun." Levi sounded like he was suppressing laughter. He looked over at Heidi, his light eyes cruel and fishy. "Before you execute her, show her the video I sent you. She'll like that."  
Anger sliced its way through Heidi's throat. "You won't get away with it, you prick!" she rasped. Her throat flared.  
The metal door slammed open, and Heidi dreaded that there were more boys coming in to toy with them.  
"Levi Roush, FBI!" It was Morgan's voice.  
Someone was at Heidi's side almost immediately. Though she no longer felt the headache, she felt the earnestness.  
"Spencer?" she mumbled. "Is that you?"  
"Levi, let the girl go and put the gun down." Hotch this time.  
"I love her!" Levi's scream sent nesting birds screeching through the rafters.  
"She has a life, Levi," Rossi started, "you wouldn't want to take that from her just because you hate your own."  
"She's breathing." JJ's voice, from much closer. "Heidi, can you hear me? It's Agent Jareau."  
"Jennifer…"  
"Some of her ribs are broken. Spence, cut her loose."  
She felt a warm hand underneath both her wrists, bracing her arms. She heard Spencer, with effort, slice through the binds. She fell backward from her slightly elevated perch; Spencer's arms were around her almost immediately.  
"I need a medic," Spencer said into a walkie-talkie.  
"She's got a fiancée that is very worried about her," Morgan continued, trying to coax Levi down.  
Levi fired; Heidi heard the bullet splinter into the plaster wall. Levi's anguished screams echoed throughout the building, and Heidi heard JJ pull out her gun. There was a thundering popping sound, and Levi fell to the ground. Hotch and Morgan rushed forward.  
Spencer removed his FBI vest and his sweater, leaving him in his shirtsleeves. He wrapped the sweater around Heidi. "Heidi, please tell me you can hear me."  
"Spen…cer…he did...this. My...bro...ther..."  
"Agent?" One of the medics rushed up behind him. "I need you to let go."  
"Morgan grabbed Roush by his hair, hauling him to his feet. He slammed the cuffs around the kid's wrists. "Levi Roush, you're under arrest for the murders of three women and the attempted murder of Breen Bishop."  
"I know, I know. I have the right to remain silent," Roush droned. "Anything I say can and will be used against me in a court of-"  
p style="max-height: 999999px; font-family: Verdana, Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px;"Morgan pressed his fingers against Roush's wounded shoulder blade, and Roush let out a high-pitched scream./p  
"Morgan!" Hotch yelled. "Enough. Get him to the car. He'll ride back with Dave and I." Hotch turned to address Spencer. He said quietly, "Reid, we'll meet you at the hospital."/p  
Spencer watched as they covered Heidi in blankets and hoisted her onto a stretcher, bracing her neck. He followed as they wheeled her out of the gymnasium, and before any of the medics could protest, he jumped into the ambulance after her.

* * *

I made some edits; Heidi's injuries have changed a bit, mainly because I found it hard to write her with a broken arm. I'm lazy, oops. Hope you enjoyed!


	5. Revelations

Spencer sat in the waiting room, tapping his foot up and down. The sensation offered some comfort, but his mind conjured up situations that nearly caused him panic: bone marrow in Heidi's bloodstream, permanent head trauma, retrograde amnesia, splintered ribs, bone puncturing lungs, or the heart…

The surgeon appeared in the doorway. Spencer snapped his head up.

"She's stable," the surgeon started, "and she's awake. The ribs on her left side are broken, and she's sustained some minor head trauma, mainly bruising around the skull and eye sockets. There was some smoke inhalation, but luckily there wasn't enough in her lungs to cause any serious damage. She may exhibit some symptoms of bronchitis: coughing, loss of voice, congestion, but they shouldn't interfere with her work too much. She should be discharged by tomorrow. We want to keep her overnight to make sure the condition with her head doesn't worsen. The nurses are having some trouble calming her down; they think you might be able to help."

Spencer leapt to his feet immediately, his All Star Converse squeaking as he followed the surgeon down the hallway. Sure enough, he could hear shouting. Heidi was in room 122; the surgeon rapped on the door and one of the nurses opened it. Her expression was strained, and Reid could now make out what she was saying.

"No! I can't stay here!" Heidi was shouting. "He tried to murder my brother! I have to call my brother."

"Dr. Bishop, please calm down, or we will have to sedate you."

"No, please let me go! Get Dr. Reid!"

Spencer stepped into the room. "Heidi, I'm right here. Rossi contacted your brother; he's flying in from New York right now."

Heidi lay underneath at least three layers of blankets and was propped up on two pillows. A large bandage covered most of her forehead, and bulky bandages peeked out the left side of her hospital gown. There were tears flowing down her face, and her eyes were puffy and red. Spencer wanted to hug her, but then he remembered he didn't really like hugs.

"He's okay?" Her voice broke, and Spencer's chest twinged.

Spencer stepped forward, and the strained nurses watched him in awe. He knelt by Heidi's bedside. "Heidi, I need you to relax."

"Breen's coming? He's okay?"

"Do you want to see the message Rossi sent me?" Spencer fished his phone from his bag and pulled up the text, holding it in front of her. "He's gonna be here in less than an hour. Rossi called while you were in surgery. Now, I need you to calm down. Just relax. Can you do that?"

The room watched in silent awe; Heidi leaned back against the pillows, closing her eyes.

"Okay, Heidi, follow the sound of my voice, okay?" Spencer spoke softly, his finger hovering over the sedative button. "I'm gonna help you. I'm here to help you. Do you trust me?"

Heidi nodded once, and Spencer pressed the button.

"How did you do that?" one of the nurses asked. "We've been trying to get her to do that for the past twenty minutes."

"She's an empath," Spencer stood up. "Fundamentally, it's the energy she senses around her. You were projecting panicked energy, which made her worse. I made sure to project calmer energy."

"Is it that simple?" the surgeon looked Spencer up and down, as if assessing him.

Spencer nodded. Heidi was sound asleep, her features relaxed against the pillows.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to stay with her for a little while."

"Be my guest." The surgeon gestured for the nurses to leave the room, closing the door after him.

Spencer sat in one of the chairs, letting his bag fall to the floor. He rolled up his sleeves and realized that he was wearing the same shirt he'd worn during the incident with Tobias Hankel. He touched the scars near the crease in his elbow and wondered if that was what Heidi was referring to when she told him he'd been dealt "bad cards."

* * *

Something warm was seated very near Heidi. She forced her eyes open and sat up. Late afternoon sunlight was streaming into the room, but the energy in the room was heavy. She looked toward its source and saw that Spencer sat in a chair in the corner of the room, asleep. She jumped when he began to speak.

"I'm not weak." His voice was a pained mumble. "I'm not weak!"

"Spencer." She reached out and shook his arm.

"Yes. I confess…no, I don't want it I don't want it! Please, don't. No, no no! No…I'm not a Devil, I'm a man…my name is Spencer Reid…"

"Spencer!" Heidi shook his arm harder; he was so lanky she was afraid she'd detach it. "Spencer!"

He jolted awake, jerking forward in his seat. Heidi was noticing something in the crease of his elbow: puncture scars. From a needle repeatedly being inserted into the same area. She could count at least three or four of them, though his shirt could be hiding more.

He swallowed before speaking, "Heidi?"

"Spencer, you were screaming." Heidi wanted to get up and go to him, but she was attached to a bunch of wires, and her body felt like it had been hit with a tire iron.

"I-I was?" He stammered, chocolate eyes going wide. "What did I say?"

Heidi hesitated before continuing, "You said, 'I'm not a Devil, I'm a man.'"

She felt his grip on her hand and wrist tighten, and she winced. "I said…I said that out loud?"

Heidi looked at his puncture scars. "Spencer, what happened to you? Did someone do this to you?"

His features crumpled, and he leaned forward. He made a sort of choked sob before continuing. "A man did this to me. His name was Tobias Hankel." He began to tell her: he told her about burning fish hearts and being suffocated. The man, Tobias, was split into three personalities: himself, the archangel Raphael, and his father. Reid was in the cabin for at least a day, forced to accept Dilaudid. He was beaten, tortured. He told her about a girl named Maeve, someone he'd loved. She had an obsessive stalker that got to her before he could. And he told her about Thomas Merton, the one thing he had left of Maeve.

"You could, um…definitely say I've been dealt bad cards." He said this with a pained laugh. "I can't seem to...hold onto anyone. Not Gideon, not Maeve... There is a new person I want to...uh...'pursue' is the only appropriate word I can think of right now. But I don't want to drag anyone else into my bad luck. Especially not her."

"Have you tried talking to...who is this person?" Heidi asked.

Spencer cleared his throat, swallowed, licking his lips before continuing. "You," he said, looking Heidi in the eyes.

She squinted at him. "You know about transference, right?"

To her surprise, Spencer laughed. "You know, uh…that's what I told the first girl who had a crush on me."

He laughed again, shaking his head.

"What?" Heidi asked.

"I...I tell you my feelings and you assume it's some form of redirection? I...It's-"

Just then, the door opened, and Breen stood in the doorway, flanked by a nurse. At first she could only see a silhouette, but then she saw his leather jacket. It was him. He was really here.

"Hey, Red!" He hugged her. "You doing okay? The guy from the FBI told me what happened."

"Bree, ow. You're crushing me."

"You're gonna be fine." He rumpled her hair and she laughed.

* * *

Spencer busied himself with a book in the corner of the room as Heidi and her brother talked. He stayed a while; by the time Breen left, it was dark and Spencer was hungry and finished with the book. Almost immediately after Breen closed the door, promising to let her know when he returned to New York, Spencer's stomach let out a gurgle.

"I'm gonna, um…go down to the cafeteria." He put the book on the table next to the bed, looking up at Heidi. "You want anything?"

"Tea?" Heidi looked healthier; color had returned to her small face. "I'll pay you back."

Spencer had already made it to the doorway. He turned his head and said, "Actually, you wouldn't be paying me back for tea. You'd mostly be paying me back for the packaging."

Heidi raised her eyebrows, wincing at the movement. "I can give the cup back, if you want."

Spencer laughed and told her he'd be back in about ten minutes. As he took the elevator down and stood in line, he started to tap his foot again. The line wasn't long; the average person took around forty-five seconds to order, and there were only two people ahead of him. He returned with a bag of almonds, two sandwiches, a large cup of coffee for himself, and Heidi's tea, feeling oddly uplifted.

She sat up when he returned; she was reading the book he'd left on the nightstand.

"You know, I didn't peg you for a Tolstoy guy," she said as he sat down and offered her a sandwich.

He pulled the chair up next to her. "I tried to find _Anna Karenina _in the original Russian, but I couldn't afford the editions they were selling online."

Heidi laughed. "Morgan actually told me you read _War and Peace _in original Russian in one sitting. Really?"

Spencer smiled, nodding.

Heidi whistled. "That's impressive. But I've noticed something about you."

Spencer arched his eyebrows, apprehensive. "What's that?"

"You get nervous around women. That IQ of 182 goes right down to 0, huh?"

Spencer found himself laughing again. He couldn't remember laughing this much in one night. "An old colleague said something similar." He took a sip of his coffee. "Heidi?"

She looked up from her tea and sandwich. "Yeah?"

"Do you, um…want to go out sometime?" He could feel his anxiety building; he started tapping his foot again.

To his surprise, she responded with, "Yeah, I'd love to get out of here."

He started stammering profusely, his eyes wide. "No, no, I meant a—"

She stopped him. "I was being sarcastic, Reid."

"So…you'd, uh...like to go out?" he swallowed hard. "On a real date?"

She smiled, nodding. "Yeah, I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

* * *

**Sorry about the rom-com-ness/sappyness of this chapter. I was trying to experiment with how they got to know each other more; let me know what you think. **


	6. Vulnerability

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Criminal Minds." There is a rather smutty sequence ahead, so readers be warned. NSFW, I guess.**

_Spencer felt exposed, but his self-consciousness took an instinctual backseat to something else. It was a pleasurable sensation that Spencer rarely experienced; it heightened his physical awareness, creating tunnel vision in the informal sense, keeping him fixed in the present moment only. Everything was acute; he could feel the sweat on his forehead, in his hair. Some of it dripped down the back of his neck and pooled between his shoulder blades. He was aware that his lips were parted and his breathing came in quick, staccato bursts. He was also aware that another person was in close proximity to him; he felt his lower torso pressed up against flesh. He glanced down and saw Heidi, her hair fanned out above her. Her legs were locked around the small of his back, pushing his pelvis against hers; he was already inside her. He could feel himself inside her; it was a warm and pleasant feeling. _

_He nearly woke himself. He'd only had one other dream of this nature, and that had been about Lila Archer. But, like the last dream, he found it too pleasant to force himself awake. _

_He licked his lips and hooked his arms under Heidi's small frame, lifting her closer. He kissed her, holding the back of her head; he felt strands of hair fall through his fingers. He sucked on her lower lip, brushing his teeth up against hers. She wrapped her arms around him, dragging her fingers down his neck, settling at his shoulder blades. She pulled her face away from him, laughing; she buried her head in the crook of his neck and put her mouth against the hollow space between his shoulder and collarbone. _

_Spencer felt several things at once: he felt her contract around him, but he also felt himself hot inside her, about to slide off of some instinctual edge. With a moan and a gasp, he climaxed; he counted the duration at about nine-point-five seconds._

* * *

Spencer awoke crammed between two hospital chairs. Heidi lay asleep in the hospital bed; she had kicked the blankets off one of her legs, and he looked away so abruptly that it gave him a headache. He pushed himself off his makeshift bed, scurrying out of the room. Once in the cafeteria, he ordered coffee and sat at one of the tables, tapping his foot again. He licked his lip, which eased his anxiety for less time because of the dream. His face felt warm, so he looked at the surface of the table, studying the fake wood.

He must have fallen asleep again, because when he looked up, Heidi was standing over him, in a new set of clothes, her forehead swathed in a fresh bandage. The purple bruising around her eyes made the gray pupils harsher. His phone buzzed in his pocket, alerting him of a new message.

"Spencer, what are you doing here?" She furrowed her brow.

"I could ask you the same." He stood up, smoothing his shirt and running a hand over his face. "Are you in pain?"

"A little. They discharged me this morning," she said as they started walking toward the exit. His coffee was cold now; he tossed it in a nearby trash bin. "The head trauma wasn't bad, so I didn't need to be here much longer. They did give me a prescription for pain medication, and I'm supposed to keep my head elevated."

Spencer's phone pulsed in his pocket, and he jumped. He fished it out, staring bleary-eyed at the small screen. He flipped it open. "Hotch."

"Is Heidi with you?" Hotch's deep voice was cautious.

"Yes. She was discharged this morning."

"Tell her we need you both back at the field office immediately. JJ and Morgan left a car with you this morning and rode back with us. We think we've uncovered something."

* * *

"A cult following?" Heidi squinted. Spencer had just finished explaining Hotch's call. She had to run to keep up with his long strides, and her body ached with the effort. "Spencer, slow down. Broken bones over here. Levi Roush has a cult following?"

Spencer folded himself into the driver's seat; Heidi sat opposite him, and he began to pull the black SUV out of the parking lot.

"We think it's within his Boy Scout network. Hotch said Garcia uncovered at least fifteen other victims."

"Women?"

Spencer set his lips and shook his head. "No. Gay men."

* * *

Garcia was waiting for them at the doorway. There were about ten construction workers around her, tearing down the blackened walls and ceiling; Heidi could hear the drilling from outside. She ushered them in, and Heidi felt her caring energy warm her. She led them into an office, where the rest of the team waited. Heidi pulled out her tablet and, sure enough, a file was waiting in her inbox.

"Okay," Garcia began. "I spoke with Shannon Haines yesterday, who is back at home. But, that's the only good news I have for this morning. She gave us some very important information, so on your mark, get set, terrible."

She pulled up what looked to be the side of a highway. There was a roadside cross lying in the grass. Heidi spotted a patch of skin behind a tree.

"Shannon told me that Levi was a homophobe and that he used to brag to her about killing people. Now, the week before she was hospitalized, he showed her his work." Garcia pulled up a mass grave. Rows and rows of bodies at different stages of decomposition rested side by side. "Following her lead, the police drove out to Waltham and, sure enough, they found this. They found another mass gravesite up in Concord, near Walden Pond reservation. This one was much older."

"How many did the police identify?" Spencer asked, staring at his paper file.

Heidi felt her stomach coil; panic chewed its way through her. Breen had flown back yesterday, and had texted her that he was home, albeit with a stomach flu, but safe.

"Eight," Morgan said. "But it looks like Levi wasn't the first killer. Some of the bodies look to be at least ten years old. He would have been too young. Hotch is right; we're looking for some sort of cult."

"Was Levi's father a Boy Scout too?" JJ asked.

"Yes, he was," Heidi said. "I grew up two towns over, and my brother quit the troop when he was nine because he was afraid of Levi's father. I would put Levi's father at about fifty-six now."

"Given his impending old age," Rossi said, "I would say he passed this on to his son."

"He didn't just pick it up on his own?" JJ asked.

"No," Hotch replied. "I can say with certainty that I've seen family dynamics of this nature. The males in the Roush family, namely Levi and his father, are lacking in appearance. Both have a history of childhood bullying; both have a history of taking solace in their church and their troop. This gave them the confidence they needed to overcome their insecurities and, in a way, exact revenge."

"There's also the MO," Rossi said. "With some of the bodies, the coroner didn't have much to work with, but each had a distinct methodical signature: a cross seared into the forehead, then a bullet to the head. The MO was so precise that I couldn't tell which body was Levi's first kill."

"He didn't kill first," Heidi piped up, and she could feel her own bitterness unfurling in her stomach. "He beat someone half to death. My brother."

Hotch looked over Heidi's head, at Spencer. "Reid, I need to speak with you for a moment."

He nearly pulled Spencer from his seat and out of the room. Heidi looked back at her tablet.

"Who was his first kill?" Morgan asked.

"Jeffrey Corcoran," Garcia said, and Heidi's mouth went dry. "Jeffrey was beaten like the others, shot in the back of the head, and dumped in a pond behind someone's property. This happened—"

"Christmas." Heidi stood, closing her tablet. The pain in her ribs flared with the movement. She winced, wrapping her arms around herself. "Six years ago. He wasn't found until March because that pond froze over."

JJ put her hand on Heidi's back in the same motherly fashion Garcia had earlier. "Did you know Jeffrey Corcoran?"

Heidi nodded. "He was dating my brother. Breen was there when Jeffrey was killed."

She shook JJ off and walked out of the room, nearly bowling into Spencer and Hotch. Hotch reached out and steadied her, while Spencer watched, nervous energy surrounding him like a cloak.

"Bishop, I want you to sit this one out," Hotch's hand was firm on her shoulder. "You're not fully recovered and I cannot have you out in the field with the injuries you've sustained. Your personal connection to this case is going to thwart your objectivity—"

Heidi shook her head, covering her mouth. "I can work from here. My connection to the case would help, Aaron."

"Bishop, I can already see your emotions have taken over. You're starting to lose control, and I don't want the team in jeopardy because of this. I also don't want you to have to relive it. I've asked Reid to sit the case out with you; he'll be with you at all times."

Was he designating Spencer as a shoulder to cry on? Trying to look to Spencer for support was like leaning up against a spider. Heidi crossed her arms, looking at her shoes.

"May I at least call my brother?" she asked. "He's back in New York, but he could have some information."

Hotch nodded. "You may call your brother. But if you are speaking to him about the case, Reid is to be in the room with you."

Hotch clapped Reid on the shoulder before leaving him with Heidi. Spencer bit his lip, watching her. She had a harrowed look on her face; the color had leached from her cheeks and her fingers shook, cradling her elbow. Spencer shuffled closer to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. The door from the lobby opened, and both of them looked up.

A Boston police officer was escorting Levi Roush into the building. Hotch had mentioned that Levi was coming back for more questioning. Levi looked up, not at Spencer but at Heidi, and smirked. Spencer started to say "I need to get you out of here" at the same time Heidi lunged. It took Spencer less than a second to react; he wrapped his arms around Heidi's waist, restraining her. He was careful of her ribs, but heard her cry out.

"Spencer, _let me go_." She bucked up against him, but he tightened his hold on her; his chest pushed up against her back. He felt the bulky bandage dig into the left side of his stomach.

"Heidi, I can't do that," he said. "You're gonna get hurt."

The flat of her hand hit his nose; Spencer freed one arm to restrain both of hers. Heidi was surprisingly small; usually Spencer had to call on Hotch or Morgan to handle something like this. But Heidi's height and build made it easy for Spencer to practically lift her away from the scene with Levi. Some of the policemen reached out to help, but Spencer shook his head.

Levi was escorted down the hallway and Heidi, weak with pain, sagged against Spencer, who let go her hand and waist, putting both his hands on her shoulders. He steered her into an empty office, closing the door after them. The lights came on automatically, and Heidi swayed forward. Spencer reached for her again, somehow catching her in the crook of his left elbow. His lower torso tightened against his will, and he was reminded of the dream. But the Heidi in the dream had been laughing. He looked down at Heidi now; her face was contorted into an expression of pure terror. Tears fell, the area around her eyes a deep purple. The bandage on her forehead had come somewhat loose and hung over one eyebrow.

He moved to fix it, but she spoke first. "Tell Hotch I said thanks for letting me sit this one out."

Terror turned to pain, and she looked at her arms, wrapped around herself. She tried to take a deep breath, but winced. Spencer wiped the tears off her cheeks, from under her eyes, careful of the bruising. She blinked and looked away. He'd always found emotional vulnerability strangely beautiful; perhaps it was something left over from his childhood or his last relationship.

Reid wrapped his arms around Heidi, who was shaking. He had one hand on the back of her head; the other arm was wrapped around her mid-back. Reid's sweater was warm and soft against Heidi, and she locked her fingers around his arm. He smelled like coffee and washing detergent, an oddly comforting scent.

Spencer wasn't exactly the strongest guy she'd encountered, but she was almost certain his personality made up for that, more so than he was conscious of.

* * *

**Longer chapter; hope you guys enjoyed. I've gotten some useful feedback and am trying to use it. Let me know what you think!**


	7. Objectivity

**NOTICE: TRIGGER WARNING FOR VIOLENCE AND STRONG LANGUAGE. This chapter depicts the details of Levi's hate crime. If you see anything that upsets you, please skip over it. I don't want to make anyone upset or uncomfortable.**

* * *

2008.

"Lyle, you'd better come look at this…"

Breen had heard freezing to death wasn't painful in the last moments. He heard, like many other deaths, that it was like falling asleep. The hours of the night had been almost unbearable; he could no longer move his fingers, and his face tingled, blood frozen to his forehead, hair, and cheeks. He'd conserved enough heat to last the night, but his body started to give out about an hour before sunrise.

"He's still alive." There was a voice nearby. "Hey, kid, can you hear me?"

Breen tried to open his mouth, but his lips appeared to be frozen, too. What came out was a pained moan. Someone sliced through his binds, but he felt no rush of circulation in his hands.

"Get him inside and call an ambulance. Ramp the heat up!"

* * *

Breen heard a consistent beeping noise. A bomb? Microwave?

"He must've been out there all night. He's a mess. Moderate head trauma, broken nose and jaw. He's missing some teeth too. His ribs have been cracked, all of them. It looks like frostbite started to set in."

"You think he fell?"

Breen tried to shut these people out, tried to ease himself back into unconsciousness, but he couldn't.

"No, he was beaten. Injuries look like they're consistent with a blunt object, like a baseball bat or a golf club. See this? Spiral fracture. His arms were twisted behind his back."

Jeff. Jeff was there too. They were in Breen's basement…Jeff screamed. There were teeth lying in a pool of blood near the washer. Then something round and squishy like a skinned grape had rolled out and hit Breen's foot… Jeff had dragged himself from behind the washer, mangled, twisted hand over his left eye, and stared Breen right in the face. _HelpmehelpmeohGod_… A man in a gas mask, then the narrow, rat-like features smiling down on Breen, acrid breath in his face… _All fags go to hell…_

Breen leaned up and dry heaved into something soft. The beeping noise sped up. _Beep…beep _became _beepbeepbeepbeeepbeepbeepbeep!_

There was an arm, hard and unyielding, against his chest, then a flurry of voices.

_Sedate him!_

_Can you hear me?_

_…going into shock again…_

_Pupils are dilated, unresponsive…_

_…seizing up…_

"Jeff!" he screamed. "Jeff! JeffJeffJeff!"

Later he would learn that his scream came out a weak, wet gurgle.

* * *

Present Day.

Breen picked up the video call after the third ping. Heidi tried to push Spencer from the frame, but when her brother answered, all he saw was half of Reid's face.

"Who's this?" His voice was muffled by Spencer, who studied Heidi's phone with the fixed fascination of a child. "Heidi, who is that?"

Heidi elbowed Spencer out of the way and lifted her phone from the table. Spencer stood just outside of the frame, still studying the screen with fascination. He knew the new Apple iPhones were made with diamond, which protected the screen, and the new retina display offered detailed pixels. But Morgan always yanked his phone from Spencer, telling him to get his own. Spencer wasn't actually interested in using the device; he was a technophobe, and the iPhone had always terrified him. But he was fascinated with it in the way a toddler would be fascinated with a bug: terrified of it, but curious nonetheless.

"Red, who was that?" Breen was in his bed, a glass of orange juice in his hand.

Heidi shot a sideways glare at Spencer, who cleared his throat and looked away, crossing his arms.

"It's nobody," she replied, almost laughing when Spencer's head snapped up. "How are you feeling?"

"Better today," he said, setting the glass on the nightstand. "Doctor said I should recover in a few days."

Heidi wondered how to best broach the subject of Levi Roush. She couldn't sense Breen's energy over a video call, but she guessed he wanted to talk about it less than she wanted to.

"How are the ribs?"

"Don't make me laugh," Heidi replied. "Hurts the most. That and coughing. Other than that, not too bad, at least with the painkillers." Heidi took an achey lungful of air before continuing. "Breen, I wanted to talk to you about a case I'm working on."

Breen rolled his eyes before continuing. "This is about Levi Roush, isn't it? I knew that bastard would come back and bite me in the ass."

Heidi's throat tightened, and her stomach went cold. "How did you know?"

"That kid told me about it." Breen said, squeezing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "While you were asleep."

"Bree, what kid? What the hell are you talking about?" She knew he got nightmares, knew from what he told her about his PTSD meds that if he went off of them, he started hallucinating and the flashbacks got worse. "Have you been taking your meds?"

"Dude, Heidi, chill out!" Breen's hand knocked the phone sideways. Once he righted it, he continued, "Sorry. Sometimes you're too much like Mom. I'm talking about the doctor kid who was in the hospital with you. I came back later in the night to check on you, and you were out cold. So I talked to him. Dr. Reeves or whatever. The one who kept checking out your legs."

Spencer's head snapped up again, and Heidi saw, out of the corner of her eye, that his face was coloring. He covered his face with his hands and turned around, scurrying into a corner of the room.

"He kept looking at them." Breen continued relentlessly. "It was like he'd never seen legs before. It was so funny, like you kicked the blankets off and he would stare at your legs and look away like he was peeping or some shit. He's kind of awkward, but it's adorable. He's really smart, though. Y'know, I think he's into-"

"Bree, he's in the room with me!" Heidi's face started to heat up, and she squeezed her eyes shut, the energy in the room coiling tight like a spring. Spencer paced back and forth, hand over his mouth.

Breen went silent for a few seconds, pondering the bedspread. "So…Levi Roush. What do you guys want to know?"

"Anything you can remember," Heidi said softly.

Breen's features twisted into a glare of sorts. "So the whole thing? You want me to tell you the whole thing from start to finish? Why?"

"It's the case we're working. Gay men are turning up in mass graves with the same MO. Any information you can give us would be helpful."

The color slithered from Breen's face, and he looked like he was about to vomit. He covered his mouth. "More are dying?"

"I'm afraid so, Bree." Heidi's hands were sweating against the table. "The rest of my team is out in the field. Spencer and I are working from here."

Breen's eyes were wet, shiny around the pupils. "How many? How many are dead?"

Heidi shook her head. "Bree, that's not something you want to know."

"_How many?_" Breen's voice scraped up against his throat. "I want to know how many, Heidi."

Heidi sighed, glancing over at Spencer, who was watching her with concern. "We found fifteen in a mass gravesite near Waltham, and another fifteen up near Walden Pond in Concord. I'm so sorry, Bree."

Heidi saw tears rolling down Breen's palid face. "I'm glad your people are out there trying to help. What can I do?"

Heidi cleared her throat, taking a seat. "What was happening that night? I mean, before the attack? Was there anything off?"

* * *

2008.

"Jeff, did you leave the back door open?" Breen slammed it shut, spilling some of his drink on the floor.

"Fuck," he muttered. He mopped it up with his sock before the cat could get to it.

Jeff was sprawled on the couch, eating from a bag of Doritos. Breen took the bag from him, hungry from the joints they'd both just smoked. He stuffed a handful in his mouth, rolling the bag up and throwing it at Jeff, who playfully kicked him in the left ass cheek. Breen leaned down and kissed Jeff, his breath warm and cheesy, his tongue ridged with crumbs.

"You gonna let me stay over?" Jeff sat up, his blond hair falling over his eyes, Breen's favorite look.

Jeff's lips were big and fleshy, so when his hair fell into his eyes, it looked like some sort of seductive gesture. Breen got going just watching Jeff move; he was slender, slight, with a gait Breen liked to call the "catwalk." Jeff started to saunter over to the kitchen, and Breen wrapped his arms around Jeff's waist, burying his nose in the blond hair. Jeff smelled like vodka and cheese, but Breen didn't mind. He trailed kisses up and down Jeff's neck, who let out a little grunt.

"Of course," Breen murmured, steering Jeff in the direction of his room.

A light went on in the basement, and both of them froze on the stairs.

"Shit." Breen let go of Jeff. "Mom's not supposed to be home yet. It's only eleven!"

"You want me to go?" Jeff's whispers were slurred.

Breen was about to nod yes when he heard heavy footfalls on the basement stairs. Mom was not a heavy walker; she had kitten feet and barely made any noise. Maybe it was Dad, but then why would he leave the party without Mom?

Breen was about to grab Jeff and lurch up the stairs, but Jeff wasn't looking at him anymore. He was looking past him.

"_R__un!_" Jeff screamed.

Breen whirled. Behind him stood a gas-masked figure. He wore a black sweatshirt and bulky black sweatpants, with military-like combat boots. In his right hand was a golf club. Breen tried to get Jeff up the stairs, but the masked figure was faster. The golf club collided with the back of Breen's skull, and he toppled backward down the stairs.

* * *

Present Day.

"He was already in the house?" Heidi watched Breen wrap a stray thread around his finger.

"I think so. Jeff and I were up in the loft for a while. The back door must've been open for Mom's cat."

Heidi remembered that cat; it had died shortly after Breen's incident. Everything seemed to center around that incident. Events leading up to it were sucked into it, tied to it, and everything after it was a slow, falling limbo, like the zenith of their lives had already passed. Breen's trauma was like a unit of measurement: two years before, five years after.

"Mom left that door open a lot," Breen continued, "because there was a glass door behind it. There was a mini cat door there too. That glass door was really fucking hard to lock. I think that night I tried, but just gave up."

Heidi figured Levi must have been in the basement for a while, lying in wait. That basement was huge, a man cave her father had blown a bonus from work on. There was a door leading to the boiler room, she remembered. That boiler was loud; their house was old, at least 200 years old at that point, and when they'd first moved in, they'd spent more money on installing up-to-date appliances than they had on the actual house.

"What happened next, Bree?" Heidi pushed gently. "If you feel uncomfortable, just mute the call, okay?"

Breen nodded. The color had not returned to his cheeks. His lips were ashen too, and he took gulps of orange juice, wiping his mouth with the sleeve on his t-shirt.

"I woke up in the basement, near the washer. My head hurt like a bitch."

* * *

2008.

Breen's head felt about ten times its size. He tried to move his arms, but they were twisted behind his back. He tried to yell, but something soft and fuzzy was stuffed in his mouth; his tongue was dry. He heard someone crying, high-pitched wails like a baby.

"Shut up!" The masked figure was standing over the washer, glaring at something behind it.

"Don't do this, please!" Jeff's voice. "I haven't done anything wrong!"

The figure swung out, this time with a baseball bat, and there was a crunching sound. Several small, hard objects hit the floor with a wet _clink, _and it took Breen a moment to realize they were teeth. The teeth lay in a pool of blood, along with Jeff's watch and a handful of hair.

"You're a sinner." The voice was higher than Breen had thought: a boy's voice. "You're an inverted being, a Devil. You made the choice, now you have to pay for it."

"You're crazy!" Jeff's voice was weak now.

The man shook his head, the gas mask moving mechanically back-and-forth, like a broken bobble head.

"It's God's will." The baseball bat swung out again, and Breen winced.

Blood was soaking into Breen's shoes. Something round and squishy rolled out from behind the washer, stopping at Breen's foot. Jeff's eye stared up at him, and he screamed against the fabric in his mouth.

A mangled hand locked around the edge of the washer, and Jeff appeared, his free hand twisted and covering his left eye. "Help me!" he screamed. "Oh, God! Please, Breen! Wake up! Help me!"

Breen smelled something else: burning. It was heavy and had a sweet edge to its scent. There was a glowing poker of sorts lying on the floor. Jeff's forehead was red, but Breen could make out a small shape there: a cross.

Then the masked man was in his face. With a shaky gloved hand, he lifted the gas mask from his head. The dark hair was matted to the forehead, but the narrow, rodent features were unmistakable. Levi Roush leered down at Breen, and Breen could see himself in the reflection of Levi's glasses: his face was covered in blood, and there were bruises flowering all over his forehead, mouth, eyes, and cheeks. Levi grabbed Breen by the chin, but Breen was too weak to scream.

Levi's breath was acrid, smelling of beer and beef jerky. "All fags go to hell."

He raised the baseball bat, which collided with Breen's forehead, knocking him out.

* * *

Present Day.

"God's will?" Heidi narrowed her eyes. Spencer was scribbling furiously into a notepad. "That's a stretch, but okay."

"Jeff was shot." Breen leaned back against his pillows. "But I got lucky. The garage door opened. Mom was coming home. Levi panicked. Must've knocked me out again. I woke up in his trunk. Jeff was lying on the ground, but he was still moving. Levi kind of lifted him, put a pistol to his head, and shot him. Next thing I know, I'm tied to a gas kiosk."

"Was there anyone else with him?" Heidi asked, her hands knit in her lap.

Breen's features contorted, and then he muted the call. Heidi watched in horror as he tugged at his hair, covering his face with both hands. To her relief, there was no cross on his forehead. She stood up, tapping at the phone screen helplessly, as if that would calm him. This went on for about thirty more seconds, during which Spencer circled around the table and put his hands on Heidi's shoulders. The sound came back on, and Breen's hair was sticky-looking with sweat.

"There was another guy. In the trunk, I could hear them arguing from outside. They were arguing about who should dump the body. The other guy's name was…it started with a W. Whip, I think."

Heidi pitched into her seat.

"Whip," she said to Breen. "There was another boy in that gymnasium with me. His name was Whip."

"I guess they're partners, or something," Breen said. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." She pulled her sleeves over her hands. "That's all I have for questions. I'll get this to Agent Hotchner and I'll run Whip by our technical analyst. Thank you, Breen. You helped a lot."

"Levi's in jail, though." Breen's voice was soft. "You think someone else took after him?"

"We don't know that yet," Spencer said, eclipsing Heidi's view of Breen. His jacket still smelled like coffee. "Nothing has turned up, but it's highly likely that someone else will start killing in Levi's place."

Breen was silent for a second. "Let me know if you hear anything. I want to keep helping. But I have to go now. Max is gonna be home from work soon."

Before Heidi could say anything, Breen ended the call. Heidi pocketed her phone, standing and turning to look at Spencer. His expression was empathetic, and he put a hand on her shoulder again. The height difference between the two of them was almost comical, but Heidi put her hand on Spencer's, wrapping her fingers around his. His fingers were long and soft, almost musician-like.

"I'm gonna be staying with my cousin," Heidi started. "She lives on Beacon Hill. Since Hotch put me under house arrest with you, you want to stay with us? There's a spare couch in her living room."

Spencer nodded, clearing his throat. "Um…sure. Do you want to go get a cup of coffee?"

Heidi smiled, trying to distract herself. "Talking about that 'real date,' now aren't we? You know any good places?"

Spencer nodded vigorously. "I come to Boston a lot during my vacation time. It's kind of like an extension of London, with the rain and the architecture, you know? If you want, I can show you all the best independent bookstores and coffee shops. And it's not according to Yelp or online reviews; I've been to every one of them and I know where the actual good ones are."

"I'd like that," Heidi said. "Boston in the fall is beautiful."

Spencer still had his hand on Heidi's shoulder when the door flew open and Hotch stood outside, taking up the entire frame.

"Sir." Heidi wriggled away from Spencer. "I spoke with my brother. He gave us some really good information."

Hotch nodded, glancing at Spencer's notepad. "Reid, I hope you got everything down, because the Waltham town sheriff just called. They discovered another body this morning."

Heidi mumbled, "shit," swinging out and knocking a container of pens off the office table. She then proceeded to kick over the chairs. The movement hurt her left side, but she was too angry to really notice. Her hair somehow wrenched itself out of her elastic and tumbled over her shoulders, covering her face.

"Bishop!" Hotch full-on yanked her from the room. He stood over her, at least six feet to her five-three. Spencer watched in awe as she huffed at Hotch, trying to push him away. "Enough." He grabbed her arms, shaking her, and she went still. "One more outburst, and I am sending you back to Quantico. Do you understand?"

Heidi nodded, a bitter taste in her mouth, and marched back into the empty office to clean up her mess. Hotch stormed in the opposite direction, taking a call from Garcia.

"Heidi, wait," Spencer said, scurrying after her, trying to avoid collision with Hotch.

She was slamming chairs and pens back into place, her knuckles bone-white. When she looked up, Spencer couldn't help but notice the way her long, waist-length strawberry-red hair framed her small face. He strode towards her, putting his hands on both her upper arms, almost holding her. He felt the sinews there, even from under her shirt.

"If you need to," he started, "you can go back to Quantico, and you can take me with you."

She stared up at him, gray eyes wide as a doll's, pupils in stark contrast to the bluish-purple bruising. Then the concealed, guarded expression returned, and she shook her head.

"Spencer…" she started. Even though her tone was frustrated, Reid liked the way she said his name. She seemed completely unafraid to be straightforward with him. Not just honest, but straightforward. To Spencer, there was a rather large difference. Her voice was soft when she continued, "I'm fine. No more outbursts."

Hair covered half of one eye; some of it stuck to her bandage. Spencer licked his lips and gently eased his finger under the thick hair, moving it from her face. Though he almost never had a preference pertaining to hair (rarely he would think of his own), he almost wanted to tell Heidi he preferred hers loose, unbound. It was soft under his fingers, and she stayed in place as he tucked it behind her ear. Hair was just a bunch of dead cells anyway, growing about half an inch a month. And attraction was caused by a surge of chemicals in the brain, one of them serotonin, from which chemical effects produced infatuation. Attraction and love were two things Spencer couldn't intellectually explain when _he _felt them. He looked back to Heidi's face, her eyes, and willed himself at least to be intellectually honest. If he were intellectually honest, he could admit that he, as Morgan called it, "liked" Heidi. He could also feel it evolving into something else, and he wanted that something else, so he proceeded, out of pure intellectual honesty, to lean toward Heidi.

Spencer's lips, Heidi noticed, were rather plump and simpery, out of place with his personality. He was close enough so that she could see the outline of his cheekbones under his skin. His nose was narrow; his facial features were generally narrow, but it was an attractive, delicate kind of narrow. His features were pretty, too pretty for a man, but somehow they worked. She noticed there were dark circles under his eyes, something she hadn't picked up on before. There was a silhouette of facial hair above his upper lip.

The energy in the room was a mixture of confliction and desire; it came off of Spencer like a perfume. He started to lean toward her, and she waited for it, knew what was coming next. His hair was downy against her forehead; she could feel it in places the bandage didn't cover. She let her eyes flutter shut, and she put her hands in the creases of his elbows. She felt the slightest warmth against her lips, the tiniest pressure on her mouth, not quite a kiss.

Spencer's lips brushed up against hers, and she was about to let it escalate into a real kiss. But, at the last minute, she decided she couldn't allow it. Her objectivity was already down the drain, why remove what was left? Besides, wasn't it only a few days ago that Spencer had been giving her a migraine? She put a hand to Spencer's chest and stopped him. As she pulled away, shaking her head, he made a noise, his eyes opening. His brow crunched, and she felt his disappointment sink into her.

"No?" He was warm, his sweater soft under her palm, but he was hurt, slighted.

"No, Spencer." Spencer's eagerness wrapped itself around her like an embrace, but her rejection started to bite through it, cold and rigid. "It's not that I don't..." She groaned, staring at her shoes. "I do, Spencer, I do. But not here. Not like this."

She felt something for him, and she knew he had feelings for her; it was there in his energy. He looked down at her, nodding. He was not angry. Maybe a little dejected, but not angry.

"I understand," he said. Of course he did. He moved his hands to her elbows. "I can't imagine what this case must be like for you, and I study human behavior. I'm also a genius. But I understand."

There was a hint of a laugh, and Heidi smiled. She leaned up, having to stand on her tiptoes, and kissed Spencer's cheek. His skin was smooth, and she felt him lean into her. She pulled away, smiling at him.

"Thank you, Spencer," she said, lowering herself. "Guys like you don't come around here everyday."

With that, she stepped away from him and walked out the door, hand over her lips.

Spencer stared after her, his mind, as it seldom was, in a fog.

* * *

**wow, ok, that was a lot covered in one chapter. apologies if this one was kind of like an emotional roller-coaster. spence and heidi sittin' in a tree...F-A-N-S-E-R-V-I-C-E! please let me know what you all think. will update very soon, and that's a promise. thanks for the reviews and follows!**


	8. Impulse

"The latest victim is Vincent Aust, aka Whip, aka the lieutenant." Garcia started. "And you might want to prepare yourselves, because this victim is gross. Like Brett Easton Ellis gross."

The victim lay in a shallow grave, shotgun wound barely visible under a mop of straggly brown hair. Unlike the other victims, he was clothed: he wore a suit, and his hands were crossed over his chest, like he was prepared for a funeral. He wasn't beaten; there were no signs of bruising. There was no cross on his forehead.

"That's a switch," JJ said. "Aust wasn't homosexual or in high school. He was a state school dropout with a criminal record. That's a very drastic preference change."

"Yeah, no kidding," Rossi replied, and Heidi laughed a bit. "What do you have on Vincent Aust?"

"Okay, here's where it gets gag-me-with-a-spoon," Garcia continued. "Your boy Vincent Aust fits no part of the victimology, but listen to what I'm about to tell you. He was a registered sex offender in the area and, oh boy, I'm gonna have to watch that cat-in-box video because it is a long list." She cleared her throat before continuing: "Vincent Aust has a criminal record of molestation, statutory rape, and when I say rape, I mean date rape, exposure to a minor, sexual harassment, you name it, it's on the list. According to his records, he targeted women, or, rather girls; his victims were all under the age of eighteen. He also has a very dangerous fetish: cutting. The thirteen-year-old girl he date-raped said she woke up with cuts all over her body. He is currently twenty years old, which, according to your profile, is out of the age range. God, this Aust guy makes _American Psycho _look like _Fantasia 2000._"

"This Eagle Scout cult is mainly targeting homosexual high school boys," Morgan started, "the head honcho has been arrested, so I'm guessing the lieutenant is now expendable. My theory? Vincent felt this new leader wasn't fit for the job. Vincent wants the job. The new leader kills Vincent so he can't talk and takes on a new partner. Can't talk if you're dead."

Heidi said, "You've told me that dressing and grooming the victims prior to dumping them showed remorse. The care this new unsub took with Aust is pretty meticulous: his wound is clean, his fingernails are trimmed and shellacked, his hair is brushed and parted, he's dressed for a funeral. Knowing Levi's MO, this doesn't line up at all. If anything, the unsub would have wanted to destroy evidence quickly. Aust wasn't even beaten. We're most likely looking at a woman, someone who knew him."

"The mother?" Rossi asked. "Or a sibling?"

"A sibling." Heidi thumbed through the crime scene photos on her tablet. "It's a stretch, but Levi has an older sister named Winona."

"Why is that a stretch?" Reid asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Winona has Osteoporosis," Heidi said, fixing Reid with a look. "I went to high school with her. She was exempt from gym class, and during senior week, we all found out because she confessed to us. We were all supposed to confess something we weren't comfortable sharing. She was a sweet girl. I can't imagine she'd kill someone. Garcia, pull up anything you can find about a Winona Roush."

"That, my human mood ring, will take a sec, but I will have the information on your tablet faster than the Millennium Falcon in hyperspace." Garcia exited the room, hot pink heels clicking on the tiles. She turned back to Heidi. "Can you switch my mood from disgusted to anything else? I feel like I'm about to throw up. Try me. I'm really suggestible."

"I can try," Heidi replied. She closed her eyes. Garcia's energy was rooted in the maternal and the sensitive, so Heidi needed to appeal to that side of her. "Hmm…think…baby chicks. Those are my favorite. Back when I worked my psychology desk job, the FBI patients I saw were always asking if I had any new baby chick videos or pictures for them to look at."

"Hallelujah!" Garcia cried. "You are a savior, Bishop."

Heidi noticed Spencer was smiling, though he was trying to hide it behind his coffee cup. She looked away, trying to avoid eye contact.

Hotch piped up: "You know, I never did get around to having her drug tested."

Morgan burst into laughter, followed by Rossi. JJ let out a little snort and pushed her hair behind her ears.

"The rest of us are going out into the field," Hotch said, regaining composure. "Bishop and Reid, you stay here. Bishop, try to work with what you can remember about the Roush girl. How did she appear to others? Did she cling to her older brother? Did she reveal anything about family dynamic? Whatever you can remember, write it down and put it in a working profile."

Once the door closed behind Hotch and the rest, Heidi let out a groan and began typing up notes on her tablet.

"What was your confession?" Spencer asked, leaning toward her.

"What confession?" Heidi asked, not looking at him.

"Your high school confession," Spencer replied. "What did you tell your class?"

Heidi rolled her eyes. "That I'm not a natural redhead."

Spencer studied her, and Heidi sensed the same eagerness from before. She studied Spencer's hands; they were folded tightly together. He was exercising self-control, like a child unable to open a gift until after the rest of his family.

"But you are a natural redhead," Spencer said. He reached out with a long index finger and pointed at her nose. "I'm going based on what I've read, but your eye color combined with your fair skin and the freckles on your nose would lead me to believe it is your natural color. Besides," he gestured toward her collarbones, "that peeling sunburn can't be more than two weeks old. It's late September; I doubt many people would burn at this time of year. You have a sensitivity to ultraviolet light."

"Yes, okay, Spencer, I'm a natural redhead." Heidi thwacked Spencer's finger out of her face and adjusted her shirt, buttoning it up one more notch. "You've worked with Derek Morgan for ten years and you still don't understand sarcasm?"

Spencer looked taken aback; his mouth went into a straight line and he looked away, clearing his throat. The energy in the room shriveled along with him. Heidi could feel his eyes on her as she turned and resumed typing notes.

"Sorry, Wonderboy," she said without looking up. "I don't do backstories."

"Was that…um, sarcastic?" Spencer asked.

Heidi sighed. "No, Spencer, it wasn't."

* * *

Spencer had fallen asleep and Heidi was dozing off when her phone rang. Spencer stirred, shifted from his back to his side, and let out a little groan. Heidi jerked her head away and looked at the Caller ID.

"Yeah, Garcia," she said, "what've you got?"

"Weird news," Garcia replied. "Winona Roush did make frequent visits to the ER, but there's no Osteoporosis on her record. There is, however, something else. I've got a laundry list of injuries here: spiral fractures, bruising, broken ribs, fractured fingers, burn marks, concussions. You name it, she has it."

"The condition was a coverup?" Heidi asked, picking at her bandage.

"That's what it looks like, yeah," Garcia replied. "And before you ask, yes, I've pulled up family records. It turns out the father, Timothy Roush, was a wife-beater. He never hurt Levi, but he did hit and violate Winona. He was arrested in…oh, my God."

"Garcia, what is it?" Heidi peeled the bandage off her forehead and tossed it into the trash.

"He died in prison around Christmas 2008. Cause of death was a shiv to the throat. They initially suspected a cellmate, but he had an alibi…the case was closed in early 2009 when they found Timothy's fingerprints on the murder weapon and ruled it a suicide."

"Okay, Garcia, thanks. Send me the files." Heidi ended the call and dialed Hotch.

"Yeah, Bishop." Hotch picked up on the third ring.

"Aaron, Garcia pulled up some information on the Roush family." She paced back and forth, biting her fingernail. "I don't think Levi is telling us everything. We need him back in an interrogation room ASAP."

"We're headed back to the field office now," Hotch replied. "I have a proposal for you. But you have to promise me something: no more outbursts."

* * *

"You want _me_ to question him?" Heidi looked up at Hotch, arms crossed over her chest.

"Out of all of us," Hotch started, "he reacted the most to you. I believe we could use that to our advantage."

"Why the change of heart, sir?" Heidi stood, smoothing her shirt. "You haven't even allowed me into the field. Now you want to put me in?"

"He knows you personally," Hotch pressed. "You're a smart woman; use that to your advantage."

A police officer stepped into the threshold. "Chief Biers is ready for you, sir."

As Heidi gathered her bag and tablet, JJ stopped her. "Heidi, make sure you let him know who you are. Establish dominance. You're the one in control. Make it clear he shouldn't antagonize you and, as hard as it sounds, empathize."

Heidi nodded. "Okay. Thank you. I can do that."

JJ put a hand on her shoulder, and Heidi let herself absorb some of the energy. But her shield went back up as soon as she saw Spencer arguing with Hotch.

"You can't put her in there!" he was saying.

"Reid, please don't overreact," Hotch replied, putting his hand up. "I've made my decision. I'm handling it."

"You call putting a new agent's life in jeopardy 'handling it?'" Reid threw his hands up. "With all due respect, I think you're taking advantage of her ability. You have no right to use her empathy to further your—"

"Reid," Hotch stopped Spencer, walking around him. "You're out of line. You cannot speak for me, and you cannot speak for Bishop. Now stand down."

"At least let me be there with her," Spencer scurried in front of Hotch again. "Please."

Hotch glanced at Morgan, who glanced at Heidi, who shook her head. Garcia walked up to Heidi and handed her a stack full of case files and gave everyone an earpiece. JJ mouthed "good luck," Rossi gave her a thumbs-up, and Morgan clapped her on the shoulder. Spencer's mouth was in a straight line as Heidi opened the door and walked into the interrogation room.

Levi sat with his elbows on the table, wrists in cuffs. He glared at her as she sat down opposite him, pulling her sleeves over her hands.

"Look who it is," he said, smiling. "The psychic sin to God. Leviticus-"

"19:31," Heidi interrupted, dropping the case files onto the table. "'Do not turn to mediums or seek out spirits, for you will be defiled by them.' Yeah, I know. Consider Exodus 20:13: 'Thou shalt not kill.' Leviticus 24:17: 'And he that kills any man shall surely be put to death.' I would be careful with citing the Bible, Levi."

Levi leaned toward Heidi, squinting at her. "Are you threatening me?"

"You're the one who knows everything about freedom of speech," Heidi replied, spreading the case files out on the table. "You tell me."

With her index finger, she pushed forward the open file labeled "Timothy Roush." Levi studied it, looking at his father's crime scene. He started to speak, but before he could, Heidi slid over Winona's open file, then Vincent Aust's.

"This is disgusting," Levi said, glaring at her.

"But you always have to do it." Heidi crossed her arms again. "The urge only goes away for so long."

Levi's energy shifted, and Heidi felt his need; she let herself open up to it. To him, killing people was as natural a need as getting a drink of water. It was only after, as he realized the gravity of his situation, that he felt shame.

"Tell me about your father," she started.

"What do you want to know?" Levi's energy was cracking; Heidi could feel anger coming off him like heat.

"Did you kill him too?"

"Damn," Heidi heard Morgan say into his mic. "She's not messing around."

Levi shrieked, scattering the files onto the floor. He lunged at Heidi, but Hotch and Chief Biers flung the door open and restrained him. Heidi gathered the case files from the floor and left, slamming the door behind her.

"What did you get?" Morgan asked as she stood between him and Spencer.

Levi was on the floor, thrashing. He scratched at Hotch, who lifted him up and shoved him back into the chair.

"Enough," Heidi replied. "He's guilty, but he's also not always in control. He wanted to kill all the other victims, but not his father. He did not want to kill Timothy Roush."

"You're saying killing his father was an accident?" Spencer squinted.

"I'm saying he did it because he couldn't control himself," Heidi replied.


	9. Interrogation

**Disclaimer: Sorry for the lack of updates; college is a hassle. Chapters will start posting more frequently when I get out for break.**

* * *

Chief Biers was securing Levi's chains; Spencer winced when he saw Levi cry out. Heidi stood between Spencer and Hotch, tapping her foot, her arms, as per usual, crossed over her chest. Spencer counted at least seventy taps per minute; he didn't need to be empathic to know she was nervous.

"We need you back in that interrogation room now," Hotch told Heidi.

Heidi nodded, uncrossing her arms and straightening her posture. She pulled her long hair behind her ears and opened the door again. Morgan squeezed her shoulder, and she gave him a nod.

"What? No!" Spencer cried as she walked away. A swirl of probabilities began mapping out in his head.

"Reid." Morgan's voice took on a warning tone.

"You'll get her hurt," Spencer said. "You want me to give you numbers? I have numbers."

"Cut that out," Heidi said into her Bluetooth. She was staring straight at Levi. "I'd have you on your back before you could put one hangnail on me."

Levi smirked at her, and Spencer started to panic. He started toward the door, but Hotch yanked him away by the arm. Spencer yelped, tripping over his shoelaces. Morgan turned away to keep from laughing. Spencer glared, shaking away from Hotch.

"She's not talking to him," Hotch lectured. "She's talking to you. She doesn't want you in there with her, and neither do I." He pressed a button on his Bluetooth. "Bishop, keep going with the father. Delve into the family dynamic and see if you can break it down. Morgan will be watching in case he gets aggressive."

"What do you weigh?" Heidi squinted, leaning closer to Levi. "A buck-twenty? Pathetic."

"Easy, Bishop," Morgan said.

Spencer felt a vein throbbing in his forehead. "Aggressive? Aaron, you want to know what I think? I think that's bullshit. You're putting a very valuable agent's life in danger."

"Out," Hotch commanded, both his hands on Reid's shoulders. "Now!"

Morgan was shaking his head as Hotch dragged Spencer away. Once they reached the main office, people lurched out of the way. JJ called after them; Rossi let out an "oh, Lord." Both of them followed Spencer and Hotch into an empty room. Spencer removed his earpiece and tossed it into the trash.

"Spence!" JJ yelled. "What is the matter with you?"

"Ask Hotch." Spencer glared at the blank whiteboard, slouching in his seat.

Hotch quietly informed the others that Heidi was in the interrogation room with Levi, and Reid was concerned.

"Concerned?" Spencer stood up so fast the chair wheeled toward the wall. "Aaron, he tried to kill her brother! He also tried to kill her! The surgeon said all of the ribs on her left side were broken or bruised."

"Spencer," JJ started, "Listen—"

"She could get hurt!" Spencer yelled, his face heating up. "I'm running these

probabilities in my head, and I know, socially speaking, I'm overreacting and jumping to conclusions, but I care about her."

"Heidi's a trained agent and psychologist," JJ said calmly. "Andie Swann was her training agent at the Academy; Seaver worked with her on hand-to-hand combat. So did Morgan. She was able to stall Levi, calm Shannon, and buy us more time. She's a perfectly capable woman."

"Getting under Levi's skin should be easier for her than getting under yours," Rossi added, raising an eyebrow.

"Dave." Hotch shook his head. Looking at Reid, he continued, "I understand that my decision wasn't fair to her. We're getting nowhere with the parents on the sister, and I needed him in an interrogation room."

"Why not send me?" Spencer demanded. "Why Heidi? She's empathic, hypersensitive. I've seen it; she was terrified while she was in the hospital. I could've gotten to him."

"No, Reid, you couldn't have. Levi's tactic is psychological manipulation. It's how he abused Shannon and part of how he tortures his victims. One of Heidi's main focuses during training was deflecting psychological manipulation. She knows non-physical abuse better than we do. That's why Andie Swann referred her to Cruz, and it's part of why I hired her. Let her do her job."

* * *

Biers yanked Levi away from Heidi, who shook out her wrist. Levi screamed, chains rattling along with him. He kept screaming, "don't you hurt her!" as Biers called for a guard, telling them he needed Levi sedated. Heidi clamped her hands over her ears and walked away. Once outside the interrogation room, Heidi leaned into the wall. Derek put a reassuring arm on her shoulder and fished out his phone.

"Hotch," he started, "we got a confession; we need a warrant to search the Roush's home. … Good. Okay, yeah, put JJ on. … Reid's calmed down? I don't want him here if he's gonna lose it. … No, it's nothing major. Levi grabbed her wrist and put some pressure on it, but she's alright. … Well, if he's gonna flip a shit, then don't tell him, Jennifer. … Okay. See you in a minute."

Heidi's wrist was burning up; she would need painkillers. She looked down at it and noticed a bruise forming on the left side, where Levi had slammed it onto the table. Her fingers were numb from when he'd grabbed them, and it took some effort to move them at first. But after a few seconds, she was able to move her fingers without pain.

"Red, let me see that," Morgan said. "Can you move your fingers?"

Heidi nodded, waving. Derek laughed. "Seriously, I'm fine."

"What about your wrist?"

Heidi rolled it around, then bumped Derek in the shoulder. "It's sore, but nothing's broken."

Spencer, followed by the rest of the team, entered the hallway. Heidi yanked her sleeve over her wrist and hooked her arm behind her back.

"We're gonna need to talk to Win-the sister," Heidi said softly. "Levi confessed to killing Timothy but his alibi checks out for Vincent Aust. He says it's his sister, and I think it makes sense. The Osteoporosis was a cover up because her father was hitting her. Sociopaths will fake emotions and if she had to play innocent victim, then she did it well."

"What about the mother?" Spencer asked, and Heidi noticed he was watching her massage her wrist. "And what happened to your hand?"

"The mother is wheelchair-bound," Heidi replied, her voice terse.

"Thank you, Bishop," Hotch said. "Everyone go back to the hotel and get some rest. But keep your phones on at all times. Bishop, you're staying with a cousin?"

Heidi nodded. "Yes, my cousin Elsa. Her apartment is closer, sir."

"Take Reid with you," Hotch stated. "Reid, take one of the cars. The rest of us will ride back to the hotel. Meet back here tomorrow at six AM and don't be late."


	10. Introspection

**Disclaimer: Two chapters in one day because the document was too big. Enjoy!**

* * *

Elsa Bishop was tall, with dark red hair and deep blue eyes. She wrapped her arms around Heidi and pulled her close; Heidi had to stand on tiptoe to reach her cousin's 5'6". Spencer watched from about ten paces away, tapping his foot. Elsa put her hand on Heidi's shoulder and steered her into the apartment. When she saw Spencer, she jumped.

"Who's this?" she asked, looking him up and down. She turned back into the apartment and called, "Heidi, I think the Nutty Professor followed you home!"

Heidi came into the doorway, her shirt unbuttoned and her shoes off. She was in the middle of removing her earrings. Spencer blinked and looked away, biting his lip.

"Elsa, I told you another one of my team was staying." Heidi jostled her cousin in the shoulder. "This is Spencer Reid."

Elsa knit her brow. "You're Spencer?"

Reid cleared his throat, nodding. "Hi."

Heidi, he noticed, was avoiding looking at him again.

"Wow," Elsa looked him up and down again. "I thought you'd be…"

"She thought you'd be more like Derek." Heidi interrupted. "Like a beefcake."

"Ah…nope." Spencer laughed a bit. "I uh…was pretty much exempt from everything that wasn't textbook related."

Elsa laughed and gestured for him to come inside, saying the sofa and the guest bedroom were ready. She'd ordered Indian and was starving. The three of them ate in the kitchenette; Heidi told Elsa that Spencer was her partner for now, and Elsa smiled, nudging her cousin in the shoulder. Heidi wiped her mouth and stood up, saying she was going to take a shower. Spencer yawned, crinkling his nose. Elsa said she was hitting the sack, smiling warmly at Reid as she went into the other room. Reid stretched, removing his tie, then his sweater. There was movement from the bathroom, and he froze.

Heidi, in a tank top and pair of pajama pants, was making her way to the guest bedroom. Spencer watched as she stood in the door a little while. She turned, and he saw she was shaking her head.

"I keep seeing Breen," she said, walking toward the living room and sitting in the sofa opposite Spencer. "The way he looked when he was in recovery. All the procedures, the bruising, the scars…" Heidi groaned, putting her head in her hands. "I think I'm trying to tell you I won't be able to sleep."

Spencer saw, when she pulled her hair away from her shoulders, that she had a scar on her left shoulder blade, puckery and circular shaped. The tank top she was wearing was low-cut enough for him to see it. Judging by the circumference and the spidery scar tissue running down her upper back, Spencer could guess a bullet was lodged there at one point.

"What happened to you, Heidi?" Spencer asked.

Heidi looked up, and her hair fell over her back again.

"Is that why you wear your hair so long?" Spencer pressed. "So people won't see?"

Heidi nodded, setting her mouth. "Why do you want to know, Spencer?"

"Because I know it's not just about Breen. It's about you, too. You see something in Levi that you also saw in someone else."

* * *

Heidi closed her eyes and saw a flash. She saw the skeleton mask appear in the library stacks. He was about six feet tall and wore a military uniform, one that he wore every year for Halloween.

"Sawyer, why?" she screamed.

He pulled the assault rifle from behind his back, and the barrel eclipsed Heidi's view of the skeleton mask. She grabbed onto the shelves and began to climb, but there was a noise between a suck and a pop, and something wet started dribbling down Heidi's back. It soaked through her shirt, and that's when she felt the pain. She screamed, plummeting from the stacks and landing on something soft. Sawyer held her, lowered her to the ground.

"I can't control it," he said. "I just can't."

Then a swarm of uniformed men burst into the building, and Sawyer was gone.

* * *

"You were one of the victims in the Abrams Academy shooting?" Spencer asked. He was seated next to her now, watching her massage her wrist. "Thirty two students and six teachers died in that shooting, including the gunman, Sawyer Munro, who only targeted students from his grade. Two didn't make it off the table, and four died before they could even get to the hospital."

"I was hit in in the left shoulder blade," Heidi said. "A few inches to the right and I would've been paralyzed. Sawyer always said he was a lousy shot."

"You knew him?" Spencer asked, and Heidi turned, looking him in the eyes.

"I was his Chemistry partner," she replied. "We were both sophomores. The school stopped admitting kids and shut down after my senior year. The headmaster said he wanted to keep Abrams open long enough for my grade to graduate. He thought we deserved that."

A tear rolled down Heidi's cheek and dripped onto her hand. Her energy field pulled in, and she put up her shield. She looked away from Spencer and stared at the family portrait on Elsa's coffee table. She reached for it, taking the frame in her hand and looking down at the four girls in it: Ingrid, Kristin, Elsa, and herself. They were all born the same year, and each girl held a diploma from a different high school. She felt something warm on her shoulder blade, and she nearly dropped the picture. Spencer had his fingers on her back and was tracing the scar with them. The sensation was pleasant, and Heidi felt goosebumps pucker on her back. She felt his energy field touch hers.

"Sorry." Spencer put his hands up when she turned to look at him. "May I?"

Heidi shook her head, setting the picture down, and Reid's energy shriveled. "No, Spencer."

* * *

Heidi was asleep and Spencer decided he needed air. He pulled his coat from the rack and put it on, along with his trusty purple scarf. He looked back at Heidi one last time before leaving the apartment.

He walked toward the Public Garden, head down, hands in his pockets. Walking always allowed Spencer time for introspection, and he needed it. Heidi was pleasing to him, and he "liked" her, that much he knew. She was an attractive woman in both appearance and the way she carried herself. He couldn't figure out what to say to her, since he was pretty sure she felt something for him, too. Maybe Morgan could help him, or JJ. A myriad of outcomes panned out in Spencer's head; when he met someone he was compatible with, he tended to map out futures with them. He'd done it with Lila, and more extensively with Maeve.

_Because I don't have kids?_ Spencer had asked JJ during one case early last year. _I would have._

_ Spence, _JJ had said, _you still will._

_I didn't even get to touch her when she was alive, _Spencer remembered telling Rossi at one point three months after he'd lost Maeve.

Heidi's skin had been warm under his fingertips, uneven where the scar flowered on her back. He thought about how he used to think his future was behind him, but he'd come to the realization that it wasn't. Maybe this was part of the reason. He was about to turn back and head for the apartment when a young woman approached him. She was wearing an oversized gray sweatshirt and a pair of dirty jeans. She surveyed him with wide, pale blue eyes.

"Please, sir." She held out a soda cup. "Spare some change?"

"I, uh…don't have any on me, I'm sorry." Spencer turned to scurry away, but she grabbed his arm.

"Keep me warm for the night?" Her cheek smacked into his. "Please?"

"I-I have to get back," he said, drawing away from her. "Let go of my arm, please."

The girl bit her lip and smiled, reaching into her sweatshirt pocket. She pulled out a syringe, and Spencer's throat went taut.

"Please, miss, you don't have to do this," he stammered. "I don't have anything to offer you, I promise. Please let go of my arm."

"Shh," the girl cooed. The needle went into Spencer's arm, and he winced. "This isn't a narcotic. I know you hate narcotics. It's just a sedative."

Spencer dropped to his knees, falling backward against a lamppost. His vision blurred, and he squinted, trying to fight it, but his head hit the ground and he was dragged behind the apartment complex. With effort, the girl managed to throw him into the trunk of a car, and that's when he lost consciousness.

* * *

Unable to find him in the apartment the next morning, Heidi figured Reid might have left, but when she looked out the window, she saw the SUV was still parked on the curb. She opened the front door and nearly stepped on Spencer's coat and purple scarf. A sticky note rested on the sleeve of his jacket, fluttering in the wind.

It read: _You were right about me. I'm at the center of it all and now, so is he._

Heidi whipped out her phone and dialed Hotch. He picked up on the first ring.

"Bishop, what is it?"

"Aaron, this is bad. Reid's missing, but I found his coat and scarf on the front doorstep. There's a note I want everyone to look at."

"The unsub left a note? What does it say?"

"'You were right about me. I'm at the center of it all and now, so is he,'" Heidi recited. "Winona Roush took Reid, Aaron. She knows we're onto her. It's getting personal."


	11. Connection

_Spencer! Spencer, come on! You're gonna be fine... No, no, Spencer! COME ON, SPENCER!_

Reid awoke to a rumbling sound; it shook the room and plaster rained down from the ceiling. He was tied, his head tossed backward; something jammed into the back of his neck, and he groaned. His hands were tingly, and his knees ached; he figured he must have been tied for more than an hour. The room he was in was completely dark, and he blinked several times, trying to adjust his eyes. But all he could see was the dream he'd been having: Heidi, kneeling over him, eyes wide, long hair rippling as she shook him. It wasn't particularly unpleasant, but upon awakening he didn't feel quite himself. He felt stretched, crowded, not physically, but mentally, like he was sharing mind-space with another person.

_It must be the drugs, _he thought.

Drugs. Panicking, he yanked himself upright and saw that his left sleeve was torn up to the crease in the elbow, a new puncture wound eclipsing a scarred one. The rumbling started again, and Spencer felt paster dust in his hair. It had been exactly ten minutes since the last rumbling, which was unusual, seeing as cars didn't travel at segmented, regular intervals; they traveled in tandem with other cars, some vibrating a higher frequency. He could rule out highway underpass or tunnel...wait, tunnel. Trains. Which subway line went at ten-minute intervals? He started mapping out the city in his head, using the map in the FBI field office for reference. But he was still hazy, and couldn't bring the full picture to the front of his mind.

The bare bulb on the ceiling switched on, and a girl with greasy blonde hair, smeared mascara, and a split lip walked in.

"Winona?" he asked. His throat felt like papyrus.

She smiled, and he noticed she was missing her right canine. "You know my name."

The crowded sensation he'd been feeling before suddenly overwhelmed him. He only recognized the girl from pictures and case files, but this feeling was stronger, more visceral; he felt like he really _knew _this woman.

_Touch me, and you'll be pulling back a bloody stump, _he thought, to which his own mind responded with, _what?_

Panicking, remembering that schizophrenia was genetically passed, he shook in his seat. Winona rushed forward and steadied him, but he shook her off. An ache began to spread from the back of his head. He was sharing mind-space, thinking thoughts that weren't his. That was impossible, unless...he didn't want to think it.

Schizophrenia.

* * *

"Bishop, how's your head?" JJ asked. She had an extra coffee in her hand, her long blonde hair swaying as she sat down. "Coffee's on me."

The headache had started at the back of Heidi's head and had spread, it seemed, to the entire inside of her skull. Since she'd gotten to the field office, she'd felt this pull, like someone was following her. Even as she was driving there, she kept checking her mirrors to make sure she wasn't being tailed. She had these chills that billowed from the base of her spine every so often, so maybe she was getting sick. But these weren't constant chills, they came and went. The only constant thing was the headache.

"Worse, but thank you." Heidi sat up, looking once again at the paperwork and the note. She looked back up at JJ. "Jennifer, I've taken three Advil in the past five hours, but this headache still won't go away."

JJ put her hand on Heidi's elbow. "You've been staring at that note for five hours. So far, we've been able to tell that the handwriting is female, it was written in haste, and whoever wrote it was triumphant."

"Also angry," Heidi said. "Look at how deep the pen strokes go."

"She still on that note?" Derek strode in, and Heidi shot to her feet and said at the same time, "So did he recognize it?"

"It took a little bad cop from Hotch, but Levi said the handwriting was his sister's," Derek said. "So Winona took Reid. She has a car, so she's able to get places...there were roadblocks everywhere. Someone must've seen her, or Reid...and no one did, so she must be hiding out somewhere in the city. Can't exactly walk home from Boston. The only thing is...why Reid? Why take Reid? No offense, Big Red, but why not take you? You have more of a connection to her than Reid has."

_Connection..._

Heidi felt an itch in the crease of her elbow, then the chill snaked from the base of her spine again. As JJ and Morgan pored over notes, Heidi yanked her sweater up to her elbow and scratched. She'd had her energy shield up all morning, but she felt it shifting, and her head began to pound worse than before. She closed her eyes, trying to regulate her breathing, like her mother had trained her to. Her ability did this to her, but it happened seldom, and she couldn't draw any commonalities between the occasions it happened.

Suddenly, the word "connection" was the only thing she could think. In these moments, she was trained to follow her ability's process, so she let go of her surroundings, of the voices in the background, of the note, of her elbow, and followed the word "connection." Her energy contracted around something warm...a speck of light. As she analyzed it, let the ability take her over, she noticed there was an odd familiarity to this speck of light, in the way it was shaped, in the way it moved. This speck of light had a presence. She reached out to it with her mind and was immediately bombarded with fear at no longer being alone. But she wasn't alone; she hadn't been since this morning. JJ and Morgan were right there with her; a swarm of officers and agents crowded in the open room, but still, she was afraid; someone was going to hurt her; someone was coming toward her...she tried to tell this person to go away, but she only felt more fear.

Another word floated into her head: schizophrenia. Schizophrenia? She'd only heard schizophrenia in relation to...Reid. Reid telling her, at some point, that his mother was a paranoid schizophrenic. Then suddenly, her head stopped pounding and she actually saw a flash. Her energy field was expanding, she felt emotions that weren't hers. It felt like somebody else was sharing her mind-space. It was ESP. She lurched upright and her eyes snapped open.

"Reid," she said.

"Heidi?" Derek nudged her. "What's going on?"

"It's Reid," she said.

JJ furrowed her eyebrows, squinting. "What's Reid?"

"The headache. That's why it wouldn't go away," Heidi started. "It's ESP. Psychic communication."

"You're serious," Derek said. "But Reid isn't psychic."

"He doesn't have to be," Heidi replied. "Remember what I told you? When Breen got hurt, I felt something too. I was the one who called my mom and told her to check the house. Breen's not psychic; I'm the only sibling that is. With Breen something just felt off. This is different, I don't know why."

Derek yelled for Hotch and Rossi, who paused a conversation with the police chief and came running over. When Heidi explained the situation, Rossi interjected, "We can't entirely trust that, Heidi. Emotional attachments are one thing, but extrasensory perception? That has no basis in science. This isn't _Star Wars._"

"But it can happen." Heidi stood. "It has happened. There are studies about it."

"Dave," Hotch put his hand up and stepped toward Heidi. "Bishop, are you absolutely positive that this is what's happening?"

Heidi nodded. "I'm trained. I can't guarantee you it'll lead to anything, but I can tell you that I..." She hesitated, biting her fingernail. "...I can feel it, and my instinct is telling me to listen to it."

"Is he trying to communicate with you?" JJ asked carefully.

Heidi closed her eyes. She followed the energy path again, focusing on "schizophrenia." Remote fear tugged at her ribcage.

_Schizophrenia is genetically passed... _popped into Heidi's head. The itch returned to the crease in her elbow.

"Not exactly," she said.

Rossi let out an exasperated sigh.

"He's not trying to communicate with me, but he is. Somehow, his energy field connected to mine, I don't know. He's alive...he can feel me, but he doesn't know it's me. He thinks it's something to do with schizophrenia. He's afraid."

"Morgan, get ahold of Garcia," Hotch commanded. "JJ and Dave, tell Biers to get Levi back into the interrogation room. Bishop, come with me. You'll be of more help if you're somewhere quiet."

* * *

The lightbulb in the room switched on again, and Winona strode in, carrying a laptop, which she dropped on the narrow, unmade bed. The room smelled of old food and body odor; on the windowsill, there were a few dead shriveled cockroaches.

"What are you doing?" Spencer asked shakily.

Winona didn't answer his question, instead she said, "I have to say, I've been dying to meet you. Tobias Hankel's only survivor? My brother learned so much from Hankel. The cross on the forehead? The beating? My father liked it, too. So we started doing it to our victims. But our case was too old; my dad started that shit way before the BAU even existed. So I pulled some weight. Told Levi his only ex was engaged. He's obsessed with Shannon. Helped him start...it wasn't that hard. He roped his whole troup into it; made a huge loud mess. Then, when your people got involved, I had to make sure your people stayed. I tipped off the BPD about their cold hate crime case getting warmer, then I killed Vincent."

Spencer felt his ribcage go cold. So that's why the victims had been so easy to find. That's why the sudden rash of female victims hadn't entirely made sense. All an elaborate plot by Winona because she was obsessed with Tobias Hankel.

"Gotta say," Winona started, pulling up the laptop's camera and aiming it at Spencer, "you're cuter in person."

The laptop emitted a beeping sound, and Spencer saw himself in the camera's window. A notification popped up that read "connecting..." and then Heidi appeared on the screen.

"Got her number from your phone," Winona said.

"Spencer?" Heidi asked. Hotch appeared behind her. "Spencer, is that you?"

* * *

He was tied to a desk chair, and his lip was split. His hair was askew, and he stared open-mouthed at the camera. His shirt was ripped down one side. But it was him; there was no mistaking that. Heidi heard Hotch leave the room, presumably to get Garcia, but she stayed fixated on the screen. Winona Roush came into the frame and began to fix Reid with a headset. She looked older, worn; she was missing a tooth, and her hair hung in straggly tendrils.

"Spencer?" Heidi asked again. "Where are you?"

A notification from Morgan appeared at the top of her phone screen: _Garcia is tracking IP address. Keep Reid on line._

Spencer shook his head. "I don't know," he rasped. "Somewhere near a subway station. There's been a consistent rumbling every twelve minutes. Which line runs every twelve minutes?"

Winona yanked the headset away from Reid and threw it to the ground, pulling a syringe from her pocket. "Shut up and let me talk to her! Tell her about the things I'm gonna do to her brother."

"Don't!" Heidi yelled, her eyes stinging. JJ rushed into the room. "Winona, don't!"

"Oh, my God!" JJ cried. "Spence!"

"I want to talk, Winona," Heidi said. "But if you touch him, I am hanging up this call."

Another notification from Morgan: _IP address success. Sending coordinates now._

The itch returned to Heidi's elbow, and she saw Reid slump in his seat. Winona was laughing, grinning at the camera.


	12. Adrenaline

"Will you shut up?" Winona was in Spencer's face, shaking him. "I get it, you can feel her."

"What?" Spencer sat up, squinting.

"You and the psychic freak," Winona replied. "It's all you were saying before, and you won't shut up about it now. So that's why I called _her. _I thought maybe you'd pay attention to me if I let you talk to her."

_Psychic freak? _Spencer thought. He clung to the word "psychic," wondering if...but in order for Heidi to be able to communicate with him that way, he'd have to be psychic too, which was impossible because extrasensory abilities tended to manifest in early childhood. Except...he'd read about a few cases concerning couples with ESP. In those particular studies, the emotional connection between the two people was so strong, they had some form of extrasensory perception. It was part of the "soulmates" theory. Spencer felt a small relief upon realizing it wasn't schizophrenia after all, rather an emotional connection, but that relief was squandered when the light in the small room switched off.

"...give you some time to think about what you've cooked up," Winona said. "And you might want to locate your balls before she shows up in here with a gun."

* * *

"She's holding him in a basement apartment on Commonwealth Ave, right below the MIT subway stop," Garcia blurted. "Unit B257. I know I just sent you this but it feels better to say it out loud. Please hurry. Please."

Heidi sat in the passenger's seat next to JJ, who was hastily plugging coordinates into her iPhone. As soon as the automated voice gave the first directions, JJ gunned it, and Heidi was thrown back against her seat. She swerved into traffic, causing a screeching of horns from the cars behind her; she muttered "fuck this," and flipped on the siren. The second black SUV followed two cars behind her, lights flaring. A cement mixer swerved into the next lane to avoid them, and JJ beeped at pedestrians as she gunned a red light.

"Anything?" she asked Heidi, who was still strapping herself in. "I'm sorry, it's just...Spence...he's like a brother to me."

Heidi pushed at her energy field, at the speck of light. "Psychic" and "I can feel her" floated to the front of her head, along with a sense of relief.

"He figured it out," Heidi said. "He knows he's communicating with me now."

"Is there any way to tell him we're coming?" JJ said through her teeth as she swerved around a delivery truck.

"He knows that too," Heidi replied. She pictured squeezing Spencer's hand.

JJ cursed at other drivers for the rest of the ride, while Heidi tried to keep Spencer aware of her. She could feel him on the other end of their now shared energy field; he was disoriented, afraid, confused, invaded. He was in some pain: the itch in Heidi's elbow had turned into a sting, and the back of her neck felt like it had been clubbed with a lead pipe. She could feel her heart against the bulletproof vest she'd strapped on earlier.

"You have arrived," the GPS declared.

Heidi swung out of the SUV and found herself in front of a dingy brick building. Derek and JJ came up behind her, followed by Rossi and Hotch. Derek jammed the buzzer at the same time Heidi felt a vibration in her pocket. She fished out her phone and saw she had a text message from Reid. _Come in alone. Spare key in potted plant._

"She knows we're here," Heidi said, startling everyone. "And she wants me to go in alone."

"How are you gonna get in, Red?" Derek asked. "You want me to kick down the door?"

Heidi reached into a wilting geranium, her fingers brushing up against cold metal. She held up the key. "No. Spare key."

"She knew we'd find her," Rossi said. "She wanted us to find her."

Heidi jammed the key into the lock and burst inside, gun raised. A dim fluorescent light illuminated a dingy hallway. The numbered units started at B247, and ended at a door at the end of the hall that read B260. It wasn't hard for Heidi to find B257; her now shared energy field made it even easier for her to detect Reid's warm aura. Taking a deep breath, she called out, "Winona Roush, FBI. Open up."

The knob jangled, then the door flew open, slamming against the wall. Winona, holding the arm of a dazed Spencer, appeared in the threshold. Spencer was pale, sallow, but he straightened at the sight of her.

"I've got him," Heidi said into her earpiece.

"Heidi-" he started.

"Shut up!" Winona commanded.

"Winona, let me take a look at him." When she resisted, Heidi grabbed Winona by the shoulder. "That wasn't a request. Let him go."

"You wouldn't be able to live with yourself," Winona smiled. "If you actually shot me, I mean. You couldn't do it, you psychic freak."

"I know what you want," Heidi began. She lowered her gun to the ground at her feet. Winona looked confused when Heidi kicked the gun away, where it clunked against a nearby sofa. "Me instead."

"Heidi, no!" Spencer yelled, his voice cracking.

Winona looked Heidi up and down, saw her raised hands, her open stance, and released Reid's elbow. Immediately, Spencer tried to push forward, but Winona lunged at Heidi, grabbing the shorter woman by the wrists and pinning her to the floor.

"Remove your vest. It's not a fair fight if you're wearing that thing."

Heidi did as she was told, undoing the straps and letting the FBI vest fall open. Winona chucked it aside and told Heidi to get up. Heidi obeyed.

"No, Heidi, don't!" Spencer yelled.

"I can take it," Heidi replied.

Winona jammed her knee into Heidi's sternum, and she slid backward, doubling over as the wind knocked out of her. Before she could fully stand, Winona wrapped her arms around Heidi's waist and sent them both crashing into a floor-length mirror. The mirror shattered, and Heidi felt her arms sting for real this time; she swallowed a gag reflex and tried to get her breathing under control. She felt blood coming from her nose and lips.

"Heidi!" Spencer yelled from where he stood near the doorway. "No. Don't. I'll stay, okay, Winona? I'll stay. Don't hurt her."

"_Shut up, I can take it!_" Heidi rasped. She wiped the blood away with her sleeve and stood, though the movement made her so dizzy she could barely see.

"Can you?" Winona sneered. She had a shard of the mirror in her hand. "You're so small, so fragile."

Heidi began to back toward the sofa. "Admit it, you've been wanting to do that for a long time, haven't you?"

"Ever since we graduated high school, you bitch."

"So that's what this is? Something from senior year? And I thought I held grudges."

"You and your perfect Stevie Nicks Mom...your perfect family. But then of course it wasn't perfect, was it? One of you turned out inverted."

Heidi kept backing toward the sofa. Winona was so close; Heidi could feel her on the edge of losing it. "You're wasting your breath. Just say it. Come on, tell me. I'm not afraid of you, Winona. Or your brother. Both of you are all talk and no action. But, I'll admit it, it takes a special type of shithead to drive a girlfriend to a mental break."

"_It wasn't his fault!_" Winona screamed. Heidi felt around for her gun with her foot.

"Yes, it was." The toe of Heidi's boot hit something hard, and she stole a glance downward. Success.

"That bitch made it all up!" Winona shrieked. Reid flinched. "I could teach that little slut so many lessons! I hate her!"

"I bet you do." Heidi forced herself to smile, keep her voice level. "She exposed your brother for what he really was: abusive."

Winona spat at Heidi, and lunged forward. Heidi dropped to one knee, grabbing her gun just as Winona threw her down on the sofa and clamped her hands around Heidi's throat. The mirror shard pressed into Heidi's collarbone, and she raised her gun, almost wavering as the barrel touched the skin below Winona's ribs. She was starting to see black splotches in her vision; Winona sliced the space above Heidi's collarbones. Heidi cried out, vision blurring, just as Winona spat in her face. Heidi pressed down on the trigger, and Winona released her grip on Heidi, falling backwards onto the linoleum floor, convulsing.

"I need a medic, STAT," she said into her earpiece.

Winona's energy faded in and out; Heidi could almost feel the pain in her own chest.

"Is Reid okay?" Derek's voice blared into her ear.

"He's okay. Shaken up, but he's okay. I'm coming out now."

Winona's energy started to shrink; it took all of ten seconds for her aura to go cold. Heidi walked shakily over to Reid, who put his arm around her. She rested her head on hi shoulder, leaning her face into his chest, ignoring the heaviness in her ribcage.

"I had to shoot her, Spencer," Heidi said when they reached the hallway, her voice deadpan, weak.

Reid shifted so that he stood over Heidi. Blood trickled from her nose, her lip was split, and she couldn't have taken that knee to her chest without re-breaking some of her ribs. When she saw him looking at her, she wiped the blood away with her sleeve.

"I'm uh...I'm glad you did." Spencer almost laughed at his lame joke.

Heidi started to look away, but Spencer reached out and put his hand on the back of her head, and she started, her eyes darting up to his. He wasn't quite sure how to proceed; Lila Archer had been the one to initiate contact upon their kiss, and beyond that he had no reference point. He mapped out different outcomes and ways of proceeding in his head, but it seemed, like hitting a baseball, impossible. But then he remembered Morgan's words as he stood at bat: "Get out of your head."

"Spencer, really, I'm-"

Spencer lurched forward, cutting off her words with his mouth, and she was kissing him. Shocked at first, Heidi's eyes widened and she started. But Spencer's energy wrapped around her again; his teeth grazed her lower lip, she let herself lean up and put her hands in his hair, and she was kissing him back. When he reached for the small of her back, for the little sliver of skin between her shirt and waistline, she gasped, both at the warmth of his hand and at the pleasantness of it. He let out a little moan and put his free hand on the side of her face. He pulled her close, until he could feel her hip bones against his; he moved forward and felt her back hit the wall.

"Ow," Heidi winced, putting a hand to her side. "Broken ribs plus wall...not such a great idea."

"I'm sorry," Spencer said, moving his hands to her shoulders.

"What the hell came over you?" Heidi asked, putting a hand to her mouth.

Spencer shook his head. "I don't know. A lot."

He helped her out of the building, and she let herself rest her head on his shoulder, leaning into him as they walked. When they reached the rest of the team, Reid let the medics take Heidi, but only on the condition that he go to the hospital with her.


	13. Serendipity

Heidi had re-broken all of the ribs she'd jacked up in her struggle with Levi, in addition to a new bruise under her right nostril, a swollen bottom lip, and stitches below her left collarbone. Reid winced when he saw her lower lip, but Heidi only shook her head and told him it was from going through that mirror. Her shirt had too many holes in it, and a rip at the collar, so she had to borrow one of Spencer's; she looked shapeless, with the pullover sweater so big on her it went down to her knees. It didn't help that her bra had also been torn up during her scuffle with Winona.

"I'll give this back once I get to my bag," Heidi said as Spencer drove.

"Keep it," Spencer replied. "I would stick to loose clothing for a couple of weeks. Your broken ribs are already making it difficult for you to breathe without pain." He cleared his throat before saying, "If you continued to wear a bra, it would increase your chance of bad healing."

"And you shoving me up against a wall didn't?" Heidi retorted.

Spencer coughed and squinted at the road, blinking. He mumbled something to himself and turned into the parking lot of their hotel, where they needed to stay in order to make the flight on time. He was extra gentle as he parked, easing the SUV so that it wouldn't jerk too much when he brought it to a full stop. He helped Heidi out of the passenger's seat and let her lean on him as they met the rest of the team in the lobby. Garcia's eyes popped wide open when she saw Spencer's arm draped over Heidi's small shoulders. Heidi, with some effort, moved away from Spencer, but he reached for her elbow to steady her.

Rossi said, "So when's the wedding?" Hotch covered his mouth in an attempt to hide a laugh.

* * *

"So when are you gonna tell me what's going on?" Derek startled Reid, who was shaking out his wet hair. "I'm just saying, I've known that woman since she was nineteen. And I don't think there's anyone who can treat her better than you."

"Is that a challenge?" Spencer shrugged into a cardigan and sat down on the hotel sofa.

"Kid, it's a compliment." Derek jostled his shoulder.

"I...um..." Spencer started, "I kissed her."

"And?" Derek prompted.

Spencer let out a laugh. "She's so small she almost had to stand on my shoes. I'm, uh, pretty sure I lifted her up." He thought about his hand on the small of her back, the ends of her hair smacking against his wristwatch, and his throat tightened. "It was...it was nice. Really nice."

"Okay, time to come down from la-la land," Derek said, snapping his fingers in Reid's face.

"You asked!" Reid almost jumped out of his seat. Blinking, he said, "Have you ever...met someone and felt...I don't know, immediate compatibility? I'd like to be with her. Very much. She's...perfect."

"It's called a soulmate, Reid," Derek said. "And I think that, with some of the cards you've been dealt, you deserve a little moment of serendipity."

* * *

The next morning, as they grabbed breakfast on the way to the airstrip, Spencer's energy was all over the place, and Heidi didn't know how what to say to him. She was sore, and she hadn't slept very well the previous night; her broken ribs made it impossible for her to sleep on her side, so she'd just lain awake and stared at the ceiling fan. She was a little woozy from the prescribed painkillers, so her ability wasn't at its best. She had taken Spencer's advice and worn his sweater over a loose t-shirt; it had hurt to pull things over her head. Even getting her hair into a ponytail had been painful; JJ had to come and do it for her.

As Spencer stirred his Earl Grey and Heidi took small sips of her coffee, she wondered how to proceed with him. Even though her perception was down, she knew he was the sort of guy that stuck to one person for a very long time. He didn't have multiple crushes at once, or several crushes in a row; he had one for a couple of years and then it took him a while to move to the next one. She could also tell that, unlike Derek, Spencer's sexual feelings didn't manifest outwardly. He was shy, uncomfortable with them, blinking when she had brought up their kiss in the basement apartment, or biting his lip and looking away. But they were there; she'd felt it in his energy when he'd lifted her onto his shoes and pressed her against the wall, one of his hands digging into her lower back.

"Heidi, are you okay?" Spencer sliced through her train of thought. "You've been staring at that Panera Bread sign for a minute and forty-five seconds."

"It's the painkillers," Heidi replied. "I'll be out the whole plane ride."

"You'll need someone to help you at home," Spencer pressed. "For at least a couple of weeks."

"Spencer, I'm twenty-five." Heidi rolled her eyes at him. "I don't need a babysitter. Don't you have better things to do with your time? Like craft new quantum physics theories?"

Spencer's chocolate eyes widened, and for a second, Heidi was reminded of a little kid when he said, "But I don't really want to be doing that. I want to help you. Can I still see you?"

"Spencer, if you want to see me, you can just ask," she swallowed. "Because I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

"You would?" Spencer stammered. "Why?"

"Didn't I just say that? Besides, I just...I really like you, Spencer."

Spencer flushed, staring into his styrofoam cup. "But I'm weird. My hair is messy, I have dark circles under my eyes, my tie is perpetually crooked-"

"There are six women staring at you right now," Heidi interrupted. Spencer ducked his head. "Two men just looked."

"Okay, okay, cut that out," he laughed. He squinted at her chest, then said, "You're still wearing my sweater."

Heidi flushed, looking away. "It's comfy," she mumbled.

Spencer swung out of his seat and helped her into her coat. "That's what they all say."

* * *

The flight home was uneventful, and after their landing, Spencer, instead of taking public transit like usual, offered to drive Heidi home. His apartment wasn't that far from hers, only a few blocks' walk. When they reached her building, Reid's hands shook as he walked with her up the brick steps and to the doorway. As she pulled out her keys and moved to unlock her door, Spencer reached out and grabbed her elbow.

"May I, um..." he started, "I'll be gentle this time, I promise."

She laughed; Spencer swore he could tell she was nervous. He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned forward, wary of her bruised nose. Her mouth was soft against his, and his tongue touched her front teeth for but a second before she pulled away, holding her bottom lip.

"Sorry," she said, wincing.

"Why are you sorry?" Spencer laughed. "Winona Roush is the one who should be sorry; she decided to pick a fight with you."

Heidi jostled his shoulder and kissed his cheek. "I'll see you in the morning, Spencer."

Spencer stared after her until the lights went on in her apartment and she waved from the front window.

* * *

**I apologize for all sap and no action. Story's not over yet, but it will focus more on Spencer and Heidi and feature a little less of the team. Suggestions welcome.**


	14. Admit It

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or Spencer Reid, but Dr. Heidi Bishop is mine.**

It was harder to get Heidi alone than Spencer had initially calculated. At first, he thought that she would be around at least four out of the seven days of the week, but it seemed the young psychologist was always busy-her job called for statements in court, which meant she was in session with Levi Roush and his mother; she also provided services for the rest of the team. Spencer even saw Anderson asking her about his mistake with Elle Greenaway ten years and three months ago. When Heidi had seen Spencer looking, she'd ushered Anderson into her office. At night, she was always with Derek, JJ, and Garcia. The four of them seemed to get along, and Spencer was more than a little bit jealous. Sometimes he would tag along, but the night usually ended with Spencer leaning in to kiss her, only to have his lips land on the space above her ear.

Spencer appreciated Heidi's straightforwardness when he'd first met her, but now she made excuses ("Tired." "Head hurts." "The usual.") He was growing more and more frustrated as the weeks passed, often watching Derek punch her in the shoulder and feeling a twinge of jealousy. Licking his lip usually helped, but Spencer found it more and more difficult to watch her be so open with Derek but so guarded around him. Derek and Heidi had been friends for almost a decade, but Spencer couldn't help but feel hurt at her choice to remain guarded around him.

* * *

Friday night. Heidi was looking forward to a Guinness and some potato skins. The alcohol helped mute her ability, and the potato skins were a long time favorite. As she stood in the locker room, pulling her sweatshirt over her gym clothes, Heidi wondered how to approach Spencer. The past few weeks had been frustrating; she was trying to figure out whether she was in a place for a boyfriend, which took her longer than she thought. She hadn't had a boyfriend for about four years, and that relationship had ended because of her fear of sharing an energy field, which had already happened with Spencer. Her mother had told her, when she was about six, that if she met a soul mate, their energy fields would eventually bond. Her temporary shared energy field with Spencer scared her-what if he could sense everything about her?

"I feel like I can just walk into a room and immediately know what you're feeling," Heidi's mother had told her. "You need to be careful about who you open your energy field to. Not everyone will be kind to you."

Though she doubted Spencer would end up being cruel to her, Heidi still hated the fact that she sometimes let herself show, which was cliched, and had already happened with Spencer. He'd caught her at a bad time-a case concerning her brother, her high school, her hometown. Everything personal had bubbled over.

"Headed out tonight?" Heidi started, but it was only Seaver.

"Yeah, my team and I are headed to a bar," Heidi replied, closing her locker. "The one that replaced Rossi's old favorite."

"How are you liking the new agent?" Ashley asked. Her energy was always in motion; Heidi could only describe it as 'humming'. "Kate-"

"Callahan," Heidi said. "I really like her. She's fitting in with the team really well. She asked Spencer if he twerked."

Ashley laughed. "That's a visual I really didn't need."

"Do you wanna join us?" Heidi asked. "I'm sure they'd be really happy to see you. Rossi asks about you all the time."

"I actually have a date," Ashley said, smiling. "He's from an international unit; he's from Russia and has a really nice accent."

Heidi smiled, nodding.

"Speaking of dates," Ashley started, and Heidi froze. "I keep getting messages from Spencer. He's asking for you."

"Yeah, Derek's getting the same thing," Heidi replied, starting to braid her hair. "I just...I don't know if I can do this right now. The case we just closed is headed to court in a few months."

"The Roush family?" Ashley's face contorted. "I knew the BAU was on that case but wow...I remember hearing about that when I was in training. The father, I mean."

Heidi felt a coldness flower in her abdomen; she hadn't told Ashley about Breen or his late friend Jeff, and she hoped Ashley hadn't sensed anything personal. Heidi finished braiding her hair and told Seaver she'd see her this time on Monday.

* * *

Spencer arrived on the third repeat of "Uptown Funk;" Heidi was sipping the remains of her first Guinness when she felt someone come up behind her. The team was two shots of whiskey in already, and the newly pregnant Kate was on her third soda. She watched them with a sort of amused jealousy, telling them this reminded her of college. Spencer came toward the group, and Heidi felt her energy field expand; she tried to force it back to only her, but it seemed to have a mind of its own. Her knight in shining argyle socks and wool cardigans, Spencer nearly stumbled over a group of frat boys. Heidi winced as he grabbed a nearby table to steady himself. One of the boys slurred, "hey, watch it, Beanpole!" Heidi snorted, but looked away when he looked up at her.

"It's the man of the hour!" Derek hollered, and everyone within a two-table radius turned. Heidi saw Spencer blush as several people checked him out. Derek rumpled Spencer's hair. "Pretty. Boy. Where've you been?"

"Finishing the updated Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders," Spencer replied, and Kate rolled her eyes. JJ raised her eyebrows, trying to hold in a laugh. "Influx of cases haven't given me a lot of time for leisure reading."

"Leisure reading," Derek repeated, and Heidi let out a laugh. "Really."

"Yeah, what's wrong with _Bare Reflections _or _Fifty Shades_?" Heidi blurted. "What are we, plebeians?"

"What's _Fifty Shades?_" Spencer furrowed his brow, but Heidi felt his eagerness at her acknowledgment of him.

Kate leaned in close to Heidi. "I think he'd be into it. I think he's secretly into it."

Heidi repeated Seaver's line from earlier. "That's a visual I really didn't need."

But the warmth in her chest indicated otherwise.

Kate let out a whooping laugh, and Garcia, who had heard the whole thing, leaned into her drink, snorting. Aaron shook his head, putting his fingers on the bridge of his nose. Heidi looked around for Rossi, and saw him laughing with the bartender. Spencer forced himself between Heidi and Kate, and Heidi found her nose buried in his sleeve. Overcome with the urge to sneeze, Heidi leaned into her own arm. Spencer started, putting his hands up, thwacking the same frat boy in the chin.

"Sorry," Spencer mouthed, and the boy put up his middle finger.

His friends laughed, and Spencer was reminded of high school. In fact, the whole scenario reminded him of high school: boys glaring at him, Heidi still ignoring him, and as much as he knew Derek was joking, Spencer sometimes found it difficult to stomach the playful teasing. It reminded him too much of gym classes and walks home from school, when classmates would pants him or throw his books into the mud. Maybe it was the atmosphere, or the fact that no one had bothered to change the song, and he had now been hearing "Uptown Funk" for about ten-and-a-half minutes. If he heard that 115 beat-per-minute tempo one more time, he might just start singing himself. He reached out and grabbed Heidi's elbow, and she jumped.

"Heidi," he started, leaning toward her, "I need to talk to you."

Heidi glanced at the team, who was looking at the two of them with various degrees of surprise.

"Spencer..." she started.

"I'll pay for your drink," Spencer continued with an earnest smile.

Heidi's mouth went wide, and she shook her head. "Spencer, really I'm-"

"You don't believe me?" Spencer started, pulling a twenty from his wallet, smacking it onto the table. "Just watch."

Then he jerked his head in the direction of the exit before he pulled her along with him.

* * *

The night air raised gooseflesh on Heidi's bare arms, and she wrapped her jacket around herself. The whiskey and the Guinness made it a little easier for her to ignore her energy field. Spencer watched her, eyeballing her every move.

"Honestly, Spencer," Heidi said. "I...I don't know what you're asking."

"I want to know where I stand with you," Spencer replied. "In terms of..."

"Right," Heidi said. "We kissed."

Spencer's eyebrows shot up, and his tone took on a sardonic hint as he said, "Yes, we did. It's been twenty days and you still haven't acknowledged me."

Heidi blinked, staring at her ballet flats. "I...guess I just had more work than I had originally anticipated."

"You've given me that explanation before!" Spencer exclaimed. "Three times."

Heidi threw her hands in the air. "Spencer, I don't know what you want me to say! It's not like we really hooked up-we kissed. Twice. We didn't even have sex!"

"No, we haven't," Spencer said, tilting his head and licking his lips. "But I'd like to."

Heidi's throat dropped into her chest and her heart picked up. She pulled her coat over her chest and bit her lip, staring at him. Even though it had been almost three weeks, she couldn't shake the feeling of his hand on her lower back as he'd nearly lifted her, shoving her up against the wall of that basement apartment. Not to mention the way he'd held her lower lip between his teeth. She felt the two of them were stretching a rubber band of tension between them; at some point something must give.

"Spencer..." Heidi gritted her teeth.

"You told me you really liked me," Spencer interrupted. "At the coffee shop. 8:10 AM."

"Okay, okay, cut that out!" Heidi yelled. "What are you trying to get out of this conversation, Spencer?"

"Ideally?" Spencer stepped closer to her. "Something more than what we have now. And your consent."

"You want a relationship," Heidi stated.

"Yes!" Spencer exclaimed, his voice shooting through a few octaves. "Do I really look like a guy who doesn't form attachments?"

Heidi shook her head, crossing her arms. Spencer stood over her, hair askew, dark circles under his wide brown eyes. She found Spencer's persistence sexy, in its own way, with his honest eyes and his earnest smile. Biting her lip, she took a deep breath and stepped towards him.

"I just..." she started. "I just wanted to be a hundred percent certain..."

"You don't have to be guarded around me, Heidi." Spencer's voice was soft. He had her chin cupped in his hand.

Heidi felt Spencer's lips brush up against hers, and his hand looped around the back of her head. Her lip and nose had healed, though her ribs still hurt, but she didn't care. She reached for his collar, pulling him toward her. He let out a moan and took her head between his hands, and she stood on her tiptoes to reach his six foot height. One of his hands moved to her lower back, pulling her up onto his shoes, until he had her lower lip between his teeth again and was pushing her toward the walls of a nearby building. It didn't hurt as much when she hit the wall, but she was grateful when Spencer put his hand on her back, softening the impact. She pulled away, taking a deep breath. Spencer still had her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"I took public transit here, do you think you could give me a ride home?" Heidi was surprised at how level she sounded.

"Of course." His voice was husky, and she could feel his heartbeat through his shirt.

* * *

Heidi's apartment was bohemian, wall to wall with tapestries; Spencer almost laughed at the dreamcatcher hanging from the ceiling, though he didn't know why he found it so endearing. His palms were sweaty, and his hands shook as he followed her down the hallway to her room. He'd never had sex before, he was ashamed to admit, but he had thought about it, and hoped it would be like that dream he'd had back at the hospital.

Spencer could feel Heidi's warmth as she closed the door behind them. She looked just as nervous as he was.

"Have you, um..." he stammered, "done this before?"

Heidi bit her lip again, and Spencer felt his stomach twinge. "Not in a while. Have you?"

"Um...no?" Spencer let out a little laugh, and so did Heidi. "But I think...I can improvise."

Before Heidi could say anything that might embarrass him further, he leaned down and took lip in his teeth again. He let out a groan when she put her hands in the hair at the back of his neck, and he reached for the hem of her dress. She lifted it over her head and let it fall into a little heap on the wood floor. She wore a lace blue bra and unmatching gray panties, and she moved to cover herself.

"Do you have-"

"Yes," Spencer replied, reaching for his wallet. He pulled out the tinfoil packet and dropped his wallet onto the floor. "Morgan ah...insisted I keep a few when we fly out just in case."

"Of this?" Heidi pulled his arms around her, and his fingers brushed up against the back of her bra, and Spencer let the packet fall onto the nightstand.

Somehow he was able to undo the clasp on her bra, and it fell away, revealing the milky skin underneath. Heidi started with the buttons on his shirt, fingers shaking as she moved down his torso. Spencer held his breath when his shirt fell open, revealing his lanky figure, and nearly cried out when Heidi started with the button on his pants, resisting the urge to cover himself when they fell in a loop around his ankles. He was hot, and so was she; when she leaned up to kiss him, he felt his erection press up against the soft skin of her waist. He shook his shirt off, and felt the cold air on his shoulder blades. Heidi's hands were there in the same second, digging her fingers into his back, her tongue in his mouth, his teeth on her lip. She reached for the waistline of his boxers and he started a bit, but let her yank them down, groaning when she cupped him in the palm of her hand.

He snatched up the tinfoil packet and yanked it apart, rolling the condom onto himself. He grabbed her by the hips, pulling her closer. She guided his right index finger under her panties, and he hooked his finger under the waistline and slipped them off of her.

"Spencer," Heidi sighed.

Spencer cut off her words with his mouth, digging his fingers into her hair. "Shh. No talking."

He lifted her onto the bed and settled himself on top of her. He was already inside her when she wrapped her legs around him, pressing her hips up against his. Spencer buried his face into her neck, and she sighed when he kissed up and down her jawline, leaning up so that she sat astride him, legs bent around his hips. He liked the way she wrapped herself around him, clung to him, her fingers digging into the back of his neck, his shoulders, his arms, anything she could get her hands on. He reached for her chin, stroking her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. Her eyes were hooded, her cheeks flushed. She gripped him around the waist and flipped him so she straddled him, moving him inside her. He lurched up and cupped one of her small breasts, kissing her collarbones, her sternum, her nipples. She was soft, warm, sweet.

Spencer arched against the pillows when she gyrated against him. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he felt his hair sticking to the sides of his face, but he didn't care. Just like the dream, he found himself on some instinctual edge: he was hot inside her, his groin warm and heavy. His breath came in quick bursts, and he seemed to be hitting a rhythm in tandem with hers. She let out a cry when he put his hands on her lower back, pulling her to him. With a groan, he took ahold of her hips and began pumping inside of her. She threw her head back, hair in her eyes, mouth, curling and falling down her breast. He felt her contract around him and, with a gasp and a moan, Spencer climaxed, counting the duration at about nine-point-five seconds, just like in the dream.

Heidi lay with her head in the space at the base of Spencer's neck, one of her legs between his. She trailed her finger along his collarbones, and he moved his hands up and down her back, drifting in and out of sleep.

"Heidi," he mumbled, "Will you let me stay?"

Heidi propped herself up on one elbow, one side of her mouth turning up. She nodded, leaning forward to kiss him, and she felt his hip bones pressing into hers.

"Spencer, when I said I really liked you, I meant it," she said, dragging her finger down his sternum. "I just...didn't like feeling so open with someone."

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," he smiled down at her, and Heidi had to lean up in order to hear him. He cleared the messy hair from her face. "Don't shut me out, alright?"

With that, he pulled the sweaty sheets over them and turned off the bedside lamp.

* * *

**Note: This took forever to write, hope you guys are happy with it. It is now 4AM and I am dead but hopefully another chapter soon! R and R. **


	15. Vision

Heidi's phone vibrated in her bag, startling her. She rolled over and saw that Spencer was still asleep, his chest rising and falling, his hair a mess, his snore light and soft. Heidi slowly turned away from him, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her phone stopped vibrating, then started up again. Heidi tiptoed across the wood floor, pulling on her panties and, in her haste, snatched up Spencer's button-down shirt and slid into it. She dug through her bag and fished out her phone: it was her mother. Great. Of course her mom would call at a time like this. Classic Olivia Bishop. Stealing one last glance at the sleeping Spencer, she left the room and hurried into the kitchenette.

"Mom?" she answered. "What's up?"

"Heidi," Olivia began in a dramatic tone, "I've seen something."

There was a moment of silence, and then Olivia was laughing, and so was Heidi. Her mother always started conversations like this, using her ability to make dramatic entries.

"It's a little late for you to just be waking up, Heidi," Olivia said.

"Mom, what did you see?"

"Well, I was up in the attic looking for an old book when I stumbled upon one of your old quilts. One of the ones I made for you. And I saw...a man. He was a very handsome man, boyish features, sort of androgynous, but all I wanted to do was kiss this man and I thought 'oh, Heidi must've met someone.' Why didn't you tell me you were in Massachusetts on a case?"

"It was a tough case. I didn't want you to have to deal with it. The Roush family. 'Nuff said."

"I heard about that. Good on you. But, who's the man?"

"Not one of the Roush kids," Heidi joked, and Olivia sighed. "His name is Spencer. He's on the Behavioral Analysis team with me."

"Well, have you shared an energy field?" Olivia was often better at reading her children's emotions than they were. She couldn't exactly predict the future, but her claims were pretty accurate. "I can hear it in your voice; I think you may have met more than just someone."

Heidi bit her lip, looking down at the floor. "Yeah, Mom. We have shared an energy field."

"Maybe a little more than that?" Olivia joked.

"Mom!" Heidi groaned. "Are you trying to tell me..."

"Here's the thing, Heidi. Ever since you were little, I swear I could sketch the person you'd end up with. I have. For Breen, too. Multiple times, but I didn't show you because I thought it might freak you out too much. I don't know how I could see him; he would appear when I was hanging your clothes to dry, or when I was putting you to sleep. I saw this strange man, this face, and I've sketched him multiple times over your years, and he looks a lot like this Spencer you're telling me about."

"So it's the same thing as you and Dad?" Heidi asked, sitting at one of the kitchen barstools.

"It's very similar. I'd like to see you soon, Heidi. I haven't been up for a visit in a while. I know this topic scares you, so I thought maybe it would be easier if I came down and stayed with you for a little."

Heidi told her mother she would think about it, and hung up. She sat on the barstool, Spencer's shirt fastened at one middle button, her hair tossed and unruly. She pulled it into an elastic and was about to start coffee when she heard her name.

* * *

Judging by the light coming from under the curtains, Spencer put the time around nine the next morning. He was still naked, on his back with the sheets twisted around his lower torso and legs. He rolled over and felt for Heidi next to him, but all he felt were billowy sheets. Blinking, he forced himself fully awake, sitting up. He was alone in Heidi's bedroom with no sign of her. In a bout of irrationality, Spencer wondered if she'd left the apartment and gone to stay somewhere else. He slid out of her bed, pulling on his boxers and pants, pocketing his wallet. It was then he noticed his shirt was missing. He ventured out into the hallway, blinking and squinting.

"Heidi?" he called.

Three seconds. Five seconds. Then, "In here."

He found Heidi in the kitchenette, wearing his shirt, her hair tied back in a sloppy looking bun. She was staring at her cell phone, blinking.

"We don't have another case, do we?" Spencer asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Heidi shook her head, still staring at her phone. "No, it was just my mom."

Spencer watched her slide from the barstool and start the coffee. She milled around her little kitchenette, humming to herself, bobbing her head to some rhythm in her mind. Spencer found himself lazily grinning at her, arms crossed over his exposed chest. She saw him looking at her and tensed, setting her mouth. She let a little smile turn up the corners of her lips, and Spencer shoved himself off the doorframe and walked toward her.

"I uh...enjoyed last night," he said, looking her in the eyes.

"I know. I was there," she said.

She was back to Heidi, all knuckles and sharp wit, caution and honesty, standing on the line between vulnerable and bitter. Briefly, Spencer wondered if last night had been a dream, if this was still a dream, and he would wake alone in his apartment, a book on his chest, not having just lost his virginity the previous night. He counted his heartbeats at 140 a minute, and his hands were cold. Heidi began to turn away, but he reached out and locked his hand around her wrist, and she whirled, wincing at the coldness of his fingers.

"Heidi, I have something to tell you," he said, swallowing. "I think that...I mean my brain chemistry is...increasing in serotonin levels..." He groaned before continuing. "To be perfectly honest, I don't know how else to say it, but..." He looked at her, holding her gaze to his. "I think I'm...falling in love with you."

Heidi stared at Spencer, eyes wide, mouth open.

"Say something," Spencer pleaded, moving his hands to her shoulders. "Heidi, I'm a man with an IQ of 187 and the ability to process 20,000 words per minute, but I don't understand what you are so afraid of. And all I know is that I see you afraid, and I want you to tell me so I can help."

Heidi drew Spencer's shirt around her and set her jaw. "I...I'm afraid of getting lost. I've always been. And to me, falling in love is...just another way to get lost. It's irrational, Spencer. The last guy I dated...we were on and off for two years before he told me that...he thought it was ironic that I was empathic, but couldn't, for the life of me, let myself feel anything. The truth is, Spencer, I can't let anyone see me exposed like that."

Spencer recalled Heidi's almost sympathetic tone when she talked about Sawyer Munro, the boy who had gunned down her school.

"It's Sawyer, isn't it?" he asked, and when she glared at him, he knew he was right. "You...opened up to him."

"It wasn't like that!" Heidi exclaimed, yanking herself away from Spencer. She looked away, wiping under her eyes. "I...I knew you would do this. I hoped you wouldn't, but I knew you would."

"Do what, Heidi?" Spencer asked softly. "I'm a profiler. I can't help it, it's what I do."

Heidi gave him an incredulous look, shaking her head. "Spencer..."

"Do you want me to go?" Spencer jerked his head in the direction of the front door, though he didn't know what he'd do for the rest of the day. Probably sit in the library until it closed and one of the staff members kicked him out.

Heidi sucked in a deep breath, blinked away the redness in her eyes. "I should just come clean with my dirty laundry and tell you that...Sawyer and I were not in love, but we were best friends. He never gave any indication that he was...what he was. He hid it so well that I couldn't even feel it. I sensed he was an aggressive person, but I didn't sense he was dangerous."

"And ever since he proved himself otherwise, you didn't trust."

"Exactly. It's just been...conditioned into me for so long, I guess. Empathize, but keep a distance. I don't want to do that with you, Spencer. I might not be able to...let you in, but I don't want it like that. Last night, I...we...I felt you. It was...it was wonderful. That's how I want it to be."

"Then we'll work on it," Spencer said gently.

Heidi moved toward him, fixing him with her steely gray eyes. Her gaze was not harsh or cutting; her eyes were red around the corners and she felt defenseless.

_It's you, Spencer, _she wanted to say, but she wouldn't.

Instead, she said, "Profile me again and this shirt is mine."

Spencer laughed, sitting on one of the barstools. Heidi poured him a mug of coffee and gave him a tin of sugar packets. When he reached for one, she took his hand, running her fingers over his knuckles. He pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, then the inside of her wrist. It wasn't long before they were on the living room sofa, the coffee forgotten. Spencer was gentle with her, soft kisses and sounds, letting her guide him inside her. Afterward, as they lay with an afghan pulled over them, Heidi shook her head.

"What is it?" Spencer tucked a stray piece of strawberry hair behind her ear.

Heidi rolled over so that she faced him, propping herself on one elbow. "I was just thinking that maybe this is why I'm afraid of making attachments. We'd never get any work done; we'd spend all day in bed."

Spencer trailed his fingers down her shoulder, her ribs, the swell of her breasts, the puckery scar on her shoulder blade. "Actually, sex is considered a form of exercise and can burn up to four calories per minute. So, I don't think I would mind that."

Heidi shook her head again, leaning in to kiss him. As he was falling asleep, Heidi told Spencer she was starting to love him too, hoping he wouldn't hear, but she saw him smile before he pressed one side of his face into the pillow.

* * *

**Note: Yeah, there was a _Fringe _reference in there somewhere...let me just find it... **

**Shorter chapter; I'm planning to span this story out twenty chapters before starting a "sequel." (so much sap, sorry)**

**I hope you guys enjoyed! R&amp;R, ideas and feedback welcome!**


	16. Point of View

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or Spencer Reid; they belong to CBS and their creators. Heidi is mine.**

**Note: Sorry for the lack of updates. First, there was finals week. Then, there was crazy work schedule. Then, there was writer's block. Finally, there was vacation, with no internet connection. Now, I'm back.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Spencer stirred his coffee lazily, the neck of the spoon circling the brim of the mug, chin in his free hand. This had been going on for some time, but Spencer had made it to a minute and a half before he stopped counting and thought, _oh, who cares. _A book open in his lap, he'd been like this since he got to the office this morning, dazed, head in a fog. The cube on his desktop screensaver bounced from red to blue to yellow to green, and he yawned, squeezing his eyes shut, cracking his neck.

He remembered Heidi's breathless voice, the soft curve of her hips, his hands on her naked shoulder blades, pulling her closer, the little freckle near her belly button, her little sounds. They'd spent nearly all the rest of that weekend at her apartment, holed up in their honeymoon phase like a teenage couple. _Maybe I'm developing a sex addiction...nearly twelve million people suffer from one...I should reread the latest DSM... My serotonin levels must be __skyrocketing... She must be driving me crazy somehow-_

_WHAM_. Spencer jumped when a DVD case landed in front of him; he was suddenly ramrod straight, and Morgan was laughing behind him.

"M-Morgan!" Spencer yelped. "What the hell?"

"We're watching this." Morgan gestured to the DVD, the title reading _Se7en. _"This movie will make the cases we work look like a Disney movie_, _I swear. My couch. Friday night. Or...do you already have plans on someone else's couch?"

"Shut up," Spencer nearly spat out his coffee. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Where is Heidi, anyway?"

"Right here." Heidi, in a floral tunic, tights, and boots, files and paperwork tucked under her arm, sat down at the desk next to Spencer's and dropped her things down. She rolled her eyes when Morgan shook his head at her, reaching into her bag for her tablet.

She glanced over Spencer's shoulder. "Great movie," she said. "Saw it when I was thirteen. Scared the living shit out of me, and my brother couldn't stop laughing. Are we having a movie night or something?"

"Someone say movie night?" Garcia appeared near Heidi, grinning, her cat's eye glasses hot pink today. "Look at you, Miss Forensic Psychic. All Boho chic today."

"What does any of that mean?" Spencer asked Morgan, and he shrugged.

"Babydoll, you are in for a treat." Morgan picked up the DVD box and waved it in front of Garcia. "Friday night movie night. But you gotta let me hold the popcorn, because you'll spill it."

"Oh, but I'll have your arm to lean on _when _I freak out." Garcia winked.

Heidi looked up from her tablet. "That's a lot of arm."

The four of them burst into laughter, and Hotch, who had heard from his office, came out shaking his head, chuckling.

"Well, if you need me, I'll be in my Batcave." Garcia whirled around and made for her office.

Morgan sat down at his desk, and Heidi resumed scrolling through Levi's file. Spencer tapped her on the shoulder.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, the Roush mother just needed my office to make a phone call."

Right then, a shrill woman's voice called, "Dr. Bishop!" and Heidi sighed as she got up, putting her hand on Spencer's shoulder. Spencer leaned in and his lips met with her wrist bone as she walked away.

* * *

Mrs. Roush was arranging the magazines in Heidi's desk into alphabetical order. The woman had limp dark hair, narrow eyes, a twist of a nose, and a small mouth. Her energy was humid, smoggy, like her son's. She wore a gold cross around her neck that she touched occasionally; Heidi noticed she did it more often when making eye contact. At the start of their sessions, Mrs. Roush had declared that being near Heidi was not something she wanted to do, and if Heidi wanted to know why, she should read Leviticus. When Heidi had asked why she hadn't picked another forensic psychologist, someone in Massachusetts, Mrs. Roush had said, "Despite your faults, Doctor, I believe we can work on getting through to my son. I don't want to lose him, too." Mrs. Roush was staying with relatives, a sister that had a son in the FBI Training Academy.

"That was Levi's lawyer," Mrs. Roush set her hands in her lap, avoiding Heidi's eyes. Her hands were shaking. "My son is dead." She rubbed her fingers against the cross necklace as she looked up at Heidi. "Dr. Bishop, my son is dead. They just found him in his holding cell, hanging from the ceiling."

Heidi furrowed her brow, sitting forward. "Mrs. Roush, I have to ask, are they sure it's him?"

"His lawyer ID'd him. He's the one who found him." Mrs. Roush set her jaw. "Now I have no kids."

Heidi got to her feet, wheeling Mrs. Roush out of her office. "I am so sorry, but my team is going to need more details. I'll need to speak with Agent Hotchner. I will keep you updated."

* * *

A wire snaked through the vent in the cell ceiling, where it wrapped around Levi Roush's skinny throat in a makeshift noose. The boy's neck was bent perpendicular, his head resting against his shoulder. A bloody towel circled his head, covering both eyes. A bucket, upright, sat directly underneath his feet. His tongue poked through his lips a bit, which were already turning blue. Forensics milled around him, snapping photos. Heidi stood with Spencer, who had his hand on her shoulder. Heidi leaned into him a bit, comforted by his energy. No matter how many times she'd seen bodies, she couldn't get used to the sight of them.

"God damn." Morgan was the first to break the silence. "What's in the bucket?"

"Help yourself," one of the forensics muttered, gesturing. "Rigor is just beginning to set in. He's been dead two, maybe three hours."

The team crowded into the cell, and Heidi peered into the bucket. Two clouded eyeballs, pale gray irises, stared back up at her, and she covered her mouth, looking away.

"What is it?" Rossi asked, stepping forward. "Vomit? Urine?"

"His eyes were removed," Heidi said, crossing her arms.

"Why would the kid gouge out his own eyes before hanging himself?" Morgan asked.

"More importantly," Hotch started. "If he did remove his own eyes before committing suicide, how could he see what he was doing, or have the dexterity? He would have gone into shock from blood loss, and before that set in, the pain would have been immense."

"High pain tolerance?" Spencer suggested. "The adrenaline might have-"

"Reid," Hotch motioned for Spencer to move so that the ME could examine the body.

The ME entered the cell, crowding it even more, and with help from forensic assistants, lowered Levi's body onto a stretcher. He removed the towel from around Levi's head, and the empty eye sockets were swollen, dried blood crusting around them.

"I can tell you right now," he started, "hanging is not COD."

"How can you be so sure?" JJ squinted.

The ME snapped on gloves, reaching under Levi's chin, maneuvering the boy's body so that his neck was visible. A deep, dark red cut ran down the length of it and disappeared under the orange jumpsuit. "Cut this deep would sever the trachea, possibly the carotid artery. An autopsy will be more precise, but I can pretty much say for sure someone cut his throat, then broke his neck postmortem. If you ask me, the bastard got what he deserved."

* * *

Back in the briefing room, Penelope had just finished informing the team that the surveillance cameras had been tampered with and disabled about three hours before Levi's body was found, which would put time of death around eight this morning.

"So the unsub kills Levi, stages it as a suicide, and waits for his lawyer to get here." Kate stated.

"But why go through all the effort of staging a suicide?" JJ popped a cracker into her mouth. "Unless the unsub wanted to create some sort of spectacle."

"The postmortem breaking of the neck and staging of the body suggests a spectacle killer," Spencer piped up. "He didn't take the body, dump it somewhere else. He wanted the body to be found at the prison, though by whom I'm not sure of yet. Potentially the lawyer."

"Great," Rossi groaned. "Another spectacle killer. As if we didn't have enough of those."

"Wait a minute," Morgan said, leaning forward. "What if it's not something someone's already seen? What if removing the eyes means there's something this unsub wants _us_ to see?"

"Bishop, why don't you and Reid revisit the crime scene?" Hotch closed his tablet, leaning forward. "Look around the cell, see if there's anything out of place. Morgan, JJ, I want you to speak with the ME. Rossi and I will question the guards, and I'll have Garcia go through the surveillance tapes. Kate, would you mind staying with the mother? Normally, I'd have Bishop do that, but I need her eyes at the crime scene."

"Of course," Kate smiled.

"Everyone get to work and I'll call you when I need you back at the BAU." Hotch got up from his seat, smoothed his tie, and the rest of the team followed suit.

* * *

"You think he partnered us up on purpose?" Spencer asked Heidi as they drove through the parking lot of the prison.

"Probably." Heidi swerved into a parking spot and unbuckled.

Spencer followed suit, striding up ahead of her. When they reached the guard, both of them flashed their badges and were let in. Male prisoners grinned out at Heidi as both of them walked down the corridor.

"Fucking twink!" An inmate spat at Spencer.

"Keep away from the bars!" a guard yelled. "Step back!"

The same inmate reached out a beefy hand and twisted his fingers into Heidi's leather jacket, pulling her flush with the bars. He sniffed at her hair, licked it, and Heidi twisted around, ramming the heel of her boot against the bars. He wrapped his hand around her arm, fingers overlapping. Heidi tried to yank herself away, but he pulled her close again, jamming her shoulder against the bars, whispering, "I can smell that clam between your legs."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Spencer lunged forward and yanked the man's meaty fingers off of Heidi. "Get away from her!"

Heidi found herself crushed between the crook of Spencer's elbow and his ribs. His collarbone jabbed into her temple. He looked down at her. "Are you okay?"

"JJ wasn't kidding about the protective streak," she replied as he loosened his grip on her.

"Just stay close to me, alright?" Spencer put his arm around her.

Even in her high-heeled ankle boots, Spencer was noticeably taller than Heidi.

"Nothing's been touched since the ME removed the body and the eyeballs," the guard said, once they reached the crime scene.

He unlocked the door, and Heidi stepped in first, then Spencer. Heidi fished a small flashlight out of her bag, shining it up into the vent. "There's something the unsub wants us to see. That's my theory, at least. Otherwise, why remove the eyes?"

"JJ told you I have a protective streak?" Spencer asked, crossing his arms.

"Focus, Genius of Love," Heidi retorted, and Spencer looked away, biting his lip. Heidi tried to see further into the vent, where she caught movement. She looked back at him. "I'm gonna need to reach up there," she said, jerking her head in the direction of the ceiling. When Spencer stared at her blankly, his cheeks the slightest pink, Heidi said, "I can't move anything, since it would disturb the integrity of the scene, and even if I did stand on the bed I'd still be too short. Get over here."

Spencer couldn't reach the ceiling on his own. It took him lifting Heidi onto his shoulders for her to reach the vent. Sure enough, there was a piece of paper flapping about in the pipe, just above the bars of the vent. Heidi reached her small gloved fingers inside and pulled the slip of paper out. It was folded as small as possible. She jumped off of Spencer's shoulders and smoothed it out.

"See," she read aloud. She squinted, aiming the flashlight into the vent again. "What am I supposed to be seeing, unsub?" She turned to Spencer. "Call Hotch. We need a crime scene unit in here."

* * *

"Oh, man," one of the CSUs said. He was staring up into the pipes, the vent now removed. He held a small camera device between thumb and forefinger. "Recording device. We even found a couple rat skeletons."

Heidi pulled out her phone and dialed Garcia.

"What is thy bidding, my master?"

"Garcia, CSU found a recording device in the vents."

"Recording device to you, cakewalk to me. Tell 'em to bag it and send it on over."

Spencer glanced at his phone, tapping Heidi on the shoulder. "Hotch wants us back."

* * *

Back in the briefing room, Morgan and JJ informed the team that COD was not the snapping of Levi's neck, rather a severing of his windpipe.

"Levi had one other visitor besides his lawyer," Rossi said, looking down at the surveillance photo. "His mother. But I don't think it was her. Based on his profile, Levi and his mother share an emotional attachment. It might not be a good one, but murdering her son doesn't seem consistent with Mrs. Roush's behavior. Besides, she's paraplegic, wheelchair bound."

"I'd have to agree," Heidi chimed in. "She was very protective of him, controlling, but she's not confrontational. During her visits, or the ones that I supervised, she snapped at me but never at Levi. If she was upset with something Levi had said, she'd take it out on me. It was almost like she was afraid of _and_ for him. Something was scaring her, causing her to be afraid for Levi. Something or someone."

"She never mentioned anything about putting Levi out of his misery? Anything about the afterlife or heaven?" Hotch asked.

Heidi shook her head. "Never mentioned it with regards to Levi."

"Who did she talk about with regards to religion?" Hotch pressed.

"Me," Heidi replied. "She mostly took digs at me. She told me the very first time she met me, 'you may do good work, but your illness condemns you.' But she never said anything about death or hell or the afterlife."

"The empathy," Spencer mused. "When Heidi was interrogating Levi back in Boston, he quoted Leviticus 19:31. 'Do not turn to mediums or seek out spirits, for you will be defiled by them.'"

"That doesn't apply to empathy, though," JJ said. "Unless you can communicate with the dead, in which case, we'd have no cases. A misinterpretation."

"A Bible misinterpretation? That's a first," Rossi remarked sarcastically.

"Wait," Heidi sat up, leaning forward, and the energy in the room focused on her. "That's it. What if Mrs. Roush made those provocative comments because she was trying to communicate something to me? 'You may do good work, but your illness condemns you.' In that same session, she asked me, 'do you cleanse yourself?' I thought she meant cleansing myself of my ability but now that I think about it I think she was asking me if I cleanse myself of the negative energy I'm forced to deal with."

"She sees you as an observer," Kate reasoned. "Not just you. All of us deal with unspeakable things for a living. Heidi's right. Mrs. Roush knows something. She's trying to communicate that in a way that whomever is threatening her won't understand."

Morgan put a hand over his eyes. "I hate to say it, but I think we need to relook this whole thing from a different angle, starting with the sister. Winona knew something. Otherwise, how were we able to track her so easily?"

"Shipping back up to Boston," Rossi groaned.

"That won't be necessary." Everyone turned as Garcia entered the room. "Kevin's been testing out this new Crime Scene Simulator. Besides, the girl put her whole life on her laptop. I just saved your jet some fuel and you, my young apprentices, a lot of time."

"We'll go over crime scene photos, images of the apartment first thing tomorrow morning," Hotch said. "But it's getting late, and I need all of you well-rested. Bishop and Reid, I'll need to speak with you."

Heidi's heart dropped into her stomach, and her chest went cold. Morgan raised an eyebrow at her as she left the room, and she shrugged. Once everyone had vacated, Hotch closed the door and shut down the screen projector.

"You two work with the top profilers in the country," Hotch started, raising his eyebrows, chuckling, "and you still think you can keep your involvement with each other a secret?"

"Not a secret, sir," Heidi stammered.

"It's actually quite common for agents in the same field to become attracted to each other," Spencer chimed in. "The amount of time we spend together, coupled with the fact that we literally save one another's lives, well I would say that's a recipe for-"

"Reid." Hotch put his hand up. "I'm not calling you two in here to tell you you're in trouble. It's not strictly against protocol for members of the BAU to get involved with one another, as long as professionalism is maintained under all circumstances. I just find it amusing. And maybe I wanted to scare you. A little."

Heidi looked down at the table, shaking her head. Hotch laughed.

Hotch fixed his eyes on Reid. "Reid, a while back, I told Gideon that I felt I took advantage of you for your intelligence, but never taught you how to deal with things emotionally. I think that, if anything, you two couldn't be better for each other."

Reid furrowed his brow and nodded. "Um, thanks."

"I called you in here because I feel that Heidi needs an agent, preferably a colleague, to keep her safe."

"Excuse me, sir," Heidi interrupted. "Hi. I'm in the room. I can hear you. Why do I need a babysitter?"

"You've been targeted by both of the Roush children, not to mention you have a personal connection to the case."

"What about my brother?" Heidi was suddenly alert. Spencer reached out and put a hand on her arm.

"Your brother is most likely in no danger, but I think it would be wise for you to keep tabs on him too. The media has already gotten wind of this, so it won't be long before he hears about it. You should let him know what's going on, and if he's willing to help again, he may come forward. No pressure on him, though."

"Of course, sir," Heidi said.

"Reid," Hotch started, "you are to stay with Bishop at all times. For now, your job is to protect her, and vice versa. You're both valuable assets to this team, so look out for each other, alright?"

* * *

Spencer took Heidi back to his apartment that night, but both of them were too exhausted to do much of anything. Heidi plopped her Go bag onto the bedroom floor and went into the bathroom to change and shower. Spencer was reading when she came out of his bathroom in an oversized shirt, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaning into him. Her wet hair seeped into the back of his shirt. Spencer's stomach tightened when he felt her mouth against his ear.

"For the record," she said, "I think your protective streak is hot."

Spencer closed the book and turned to face her, raising his eyebrows. "Genius of love?" he asked softly, leaning into Heidi's neck.

Heidi moved to sit next to him, yawning. "It's a song. Mind if I join you?"

She wanted to tell him she loved him, but she kissed him instead, letting him put his hands on the side of her face. Spencer pulled the blanket over them and Heidi leaned against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand on her hair and the other on her lower back. She made a noise and burrowed into him, and Spencer's face warmed. He licked his lips, kissing the side of her head before leaning against the cushions.

Just before he dropped off to sleep, Spencer heard Heidi mumble his name.

* * *

**I promise to end the chapter differently next time! I hope you guys liked! Excuse the sap. C:**


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